


Perfect

by AnneScriblerian



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drama, F/M, Forced Marriage, M/M, Miscarriage, Mpreg, Novel, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-22
Updated: 2013-10-03
Packaged: 2017-12-21 01:42:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 32
Words: 45,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/894316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnneScriblerian/pseuds/AnneScriblerian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Potter tries to save Severus Snape by marrying him. What he doesn't realize is that marriage can change everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [accioslash](https://archiveofourown.org/users/accioslash/gifts).



> Originally written for the 2011 Snarry Big Bang. I misread the prompt:
> 
> Prompt: #113: Harry decides to rescue Snape from a life in Azkaban by marrying him. Snape decides to exact a long, slow revenge by acting out the role of perfect housewife with exactness, attention to detail, and a vicious flair that is perfectly Snapey.
> 
> I thought it read: "Harry decides to rescue Snape from a life in Azkaban by marrying him. Snape is the ‘perfect wife.’ In his own snarky way."
> 
>  **and** I continued the work after the fest was over. I'm a naughty girl.

**January 9**  
  
Ministry of Magic  
  
Severus Snape looked quite dashing. His emerald green robes not only matched Harry's eyes perfectly, they flattered Severus's coloring so well that Harry had gasped when they had met in the Ministry waiting room. This was not the Severus Snape whom Harry remembered from school and from the aftermath of war. He was even farther from the haggard, filthy man to whom Harry had proposed in Azkaban two weeks ago.  
  
Ginny Weasley was there with her fiancé as well. It was horrid luck that their bonding ceremonies were scheduled one right after the other. Or perhaps it wasn't luck. The Minister was rather furious with Harry, after all. Perhaps this was his way of rubbing salt into the wound.  
  
But much had happened since Harry and Ginny had split. Although they had been separated unwillingly, the events of the intervening months had left Harry less upset about their forced estrangement than he could have imagined.  
  
Despite his changed feelings towards Ginny, Harry was doing his best to be polite to her and her husband-to-be, Justin Finch-Fletchley. Snape, however, seemed to be doing his best to demonstrate that his stint in Azkaban had done nothing to dull his sharp tongue. He and Ginny had been exchanging barbs since they had entered the waiting room. Snape was much better at this game than she was.  
  
Harry was uncomfortably aware of Justin's growing distress, but Ginny had become so incensed she had forgotten he was in the room. Snape was clearly enjoying goading her into exposing herself to her future husband in as negative a light as possible. Their mutual rudeness had been accelerating for the past half hour, and Harry was beginning to feel a bit panicked.  
  
"None of us are getting what we want, Miss Weasley. But at least some of us have enough self-control to refrain from whinging about things we cannot have."  
  
"You are marrying the man of my dreams! What more could you possibly want? You don't deserve him! You are ugly and evil and disgusting..."  
  
Even Harry, who would have dearly loved to strangle Snape right then and there, could not allow Ginny to go on so.  
  
"Ginny... This isn't helping. There's nothing you can do. Believe me, Hermione and I tried to find another option."  
  
"Yes, Ginevra, Harry is quite right. There is absolutely no way you could ever marry him. But we are certainly looking forward to spending time with you and your Ministry-approved husband in the future. Your undoubtedly...energetic…ginger-haired children will be playmates with our clever, raven-haired darlings. Won't that be lovely?"  
  
Only Harry was the least bit surprised when Ginny broke Snape's nose.  
  
 **Malfoy Manor**  
  
Their bonding ceremony had been identical to every other Ministry-approved bonding ceremony in every aspect but one. Because Harry was identified as the dominant partner, the blazon behind the officiant’s podium depicted a lion attempting to crush a serpent rather than a partnership of the two. The large snake was coiled back—ready to strike at the lion—and the lion had a tensed tail and spread claws.  
  
The hissing of the two animals almost drowned out the words of the bonding spell, and Harry struggled to ignore the snake’s repetition of the phrase, Who are you to do this?  
  
As he entered Malfoy Manor with his new husband, Harry was grateful that at least they had been allowed to wear what they liked. If Snape—Potter? Merlin, this was confusing—Severus had been forced to wear the symbols of his submission or—even worse—to wear white, someone definitely would have died. Harry was rather sure it would have been him.  
  
The ballroom looked gorgeous. The food was sumptuous, and the music was tasteful. But none of the guests actually seemed to be celebrating. Harry tried not to take it personally. No one was happy about the forced bondings, which led a certain gloom to most marriage receptions lately. Even those who were lucky enough to have their chosen relationship match the Ministry guidelines felt guilty that they were escaping the fate of their friends. Well, most of them felt guilty.  
  
The Weasleys mostly seemed angry. Harry was afraid they wouldn’t make it through the reception line without more fisticuffs. If there hadn’t been a magic-dampening field over the room, he would have feared worse. But Severus greeted each Weasley as calmly and politely as everyone else, despite the range of hostile glares he received in return.  
  
Molly kept a firm hold on Ginny’s arm as they moved through the line, though Harry hoped the presence of her new in-laws would ensure that Ginny would at least try to remain civil. But when he saw the pinched expression on her mother-in-law’s face, he realized they were probably making things worse. Mrs. Finch-Fletchley was obviously comparing the splendid party at Malfoy Manor to the small tea the Weasleys had held earlier that day to celebrate their daughter’s marriage. And clearly she felt Malfoy Manor was vastly superior to a heated tent behind the Burrow.  
  
Not that anyone’s home would compare to the Manor…at least not in ostentatiousness. The Burrow was a thousand times better; Harry knew that for a fact. Who would trade warmth and love and coziness for marble and silver and painful politeness? Clearly Mrs. Finch-Fletchley, for one.  
  
Harry clenched his jaw to stop himself frowning at Hermione when she greeted him. Her chin had wobbled in an infuriating fashion throughout the bonding ceremony, to which she and Draco had served witness. Harry could stand anything but pity; Hermione should know that by now. He tried to blame her emotional state on her pregnancy hormones. Still, he could barely stand to look at her when she came through the receiving line. He knew he was being incredibly ungrateful, but he couldn’t help it.  
  
Severus, on the other hand, gave her a warm hug and whispered something in her ear. The combination of choked sob and giggle that burst out of her knocked Harry sideways. What could Severus have possibly said to her? Severus ignored Harry’s raised eyebrows and resumed his placid smiling.  
  
Ron followed Hermione, of course. He stopped in front of Severus and looked him up and down. Ron had been surprisingly supportive lately, but after what had happened in the waiting room Harry couldn’t help tensing in expectation of a fight—even though he wasn’t quite sure which side he would end up backing. Severus stood completely still during Ron’s inspection, and he looked back steadily when Ron met his eyes.  
  
“Well, I reckon you’ll keep our Harry out of trouble, anyway.”  
  
After this pronouncement, Ron placed his hand on Severus’s shoulder and gave it an almost fond squeeze.  
  
Harry greeted the next several guests with a gobsmacked expression and didn’t remember he was meant to shake their hands until Severus cleared his throat and recalled him to himself.  
  
Severus’s guests formed a tiny tail to the giant line. The Hogwarts’ professors in attendance had been placed on his side to even out the numbers. Not that the numbers were anywhere near even. Severus had invited only the Malfoys. Actually, Harry realized, the Malfoys had invited Severus. They had insisted on hosting the reception. Harry and Severus owed them too much to reject such a public display. Harry reckoned Lucius had a very good idea of what he was doing, so he hadn’t even tried to argue against it. Severus was in no position to bargain with anyone.  
  
Harry closed his eyes briefly as he resolved, yet again, not to pity his partner in this unwanted marriage. Severus could bear pity even less than Harry could.  
  
Actually, Harry felt he could be persuaded to accept some sympathy at the moment. The reception was even more surreal than the bonding ceremony. Harry felt like he’d been stung by a dozen Billywigs and then hung upside down.  
  
From the moment they had entered the Manor, Harry had felt he was going to pass out. The combination of a large group of people staring at him—once again—and stunned disbelief that he was actually married to Severus Snape was a deadly one. Severus basically had to hold him up—a feat that he managed in a surprisingly unobtrusive way. Harry had forgotten Severus's preternatural poise extended beyond the battlefield.  
  
Severus's impeccable politeness during the receiving line made the ordeal bearable, but Harry was more than happy to sit down for dinner. Thankfully, the Malfoys did not follow the vulgar Muggle tradition of putting the wedding party on display at a High Table. Harry doubted he could have survived being on exhibit for one more minute.  
  
As soon as they were seated, Harry reached for a glass of the perfectly chilled white wine.  
  
"I think it would be better to eat something first," Severus murmured gently into his ear, without a hint of malice.  
  
Harry froze with shock. Severus having actual manners and poise he could believe, but showing concern? He was starting to suspect Severus had dosed him with some sort of potion.  
  
But such an act would nullify their bonding immediately, and Severus would have to return to Azkaban.  
  
With that thought, Harry realized once again that Severus was acting this way to save his own arse—and possibly his soul. Against almost everyone’s expectations, he had chosen a lifelong commitment to Harry Potter over a lifetime sentence in Azkaban. Perhaps he did not feel he'd been given a choice. Harry certainly hadn’t been given much of one.  
  
Yet somehow, now that they were married, the thought that Severus had only bonded with him because he had been forced into it made Harry feel more upset than the prospect of spending the rest of his life with his former nemesis did. He wasn’t sure he could give his hand without his heart. He knew he was alone in this response to the ceremony. But if Severus was going to pretend to care about him…  
  
As Severus led him expertly through the required dances, Harry couldn't meet his eyes. He wished more than ever it had never come to this.  
  
 **The Previous Year**  
  
June  
  
The Burrow  
  
Ginny stamped her foot and ran up the stairs.  
  
Percy was flushed, but he held his chin up defiantly.  
  
“It’s not my decision. I only wanted my family to know. If you’d had to read it in the paper, she’d be even angrier.”  
  
Molly was sobbing; Arthur looked grim; Hermione was pale.  
  
“Bad luck, mate.”  
  
Harry knew Ron was trying to be comforting. He did. But the sight of his two best friends, newly—and legally—married, made him want to scream. His friends had sacrificed much to save this world; he would never deny that. But why should they get to live happily ever after when he was legally barred from doing so?  
  
Molly finally stopped weeping and wiped her eyes.  
  
“Right. So, Percy, you say full-bloods can only marry Muggle-borns. Ron and Hermione are safe, but Ginny…Ginny and Harry can never marry. Does this mean Harry can never marry anyone?”  
  
“No, mother. Harry is a half-blood. He can marry another half-blood.”  
  
Harry closed his eyes. He had died to save them, and the Ministry was treating him like an animal to be forcibly bred? Harry Apparated away before he said—or did—something they would all regret.  
  
 **The Ministry**  
  
“If Kingsley were still alive, this would not be happening.”  
  
“He’s dead, Mr. Potter. And now I am the Minister of Magic. I see no reason not to agree with the Wizengamot. Too many are dead. This generation has a duty to the future.”  
  
“Can you hear yourself? I died to ensure that the Wizarding World even had a future!”  
  
“And yet, here you stand. To cite a Muggle author, ‘Reports of your death have been greatly exaggerated.’”  
  
Harry’s mouth fell open. He had sacrificed himself for this? Behind his gormless look, his mind was racing. He took a page from Ron’s book and considered all the paths still open to him.  
  
Then he made a decision.  
  
“Very well, Minister. I want to make sure I understand. I can marry any half-blooded witch or wizard?”  
  
“Yes, Mr. Potter. The Wizengamot’s mandate is very clear. Purebloods may only marry Muggle-borns. Muggle-borns can only marry Purebloods. And Half-Bloods may only marry Half-Bloods. We need to ensure that our next generation is free from squibs and prejudice alike.”  
  
Harry nodded, turned on his heel, and walked out of the Minister’s office.  
  
 **12 Grimmauld Place**  
  
Harry had no one to talk to about his decision. Sirius never would have understood. Remus would have had a clear perspective on the issue and would have given him excellent advice. Unfortunately, Harry had no idea what that advice would have been. Arthur was hardly unbiased in this situation. Dumbledore…  
  
Well, wasn’t he doing it for Dumbledore, in the end? After receiving Snape’s memories and examining the contents of the pensieve Dumbledore left him, Harry was absolutely sure Snape had been Dumbledore’s man to the end. But memories were no longer admissible evidence in the Wizengamot.  
  
If Kingsley was alive… Harry straightened his shoulders and raised his chin. Everything would be different if they had a Minister of Magic with even an ounce of humanity. But they did not.  
  
Harry was the only one who could rescue Severus Snape. And this was the only way he could do it.  
  
Harry didn’t think too hard about whether or not he actually could do it. He had done many, many impossible things in his life. Some he had done by accident; most he had done to save someone else. This was no different.  
  
None of his friends would understand. In fact, the whole wizarding world would probably revile him.  
  
This would be nothing new. The whole “Heir of Slytherin” nonsense, the Tri-Wizard tournament—when even Ron had turned against him—and the year on the run searching for Horcruxes… Harry had learned his lesson very thoroughly: what was right was rarely what was popular. And Dumbledore had been absolutely correct when he said what was right was not necessarily what was easy.  
  
Hermione was the only person who might understand. She had stood by Harry through everything he had ever faced. She had questioned him—oh yes. She had lectured him—more than he could bear to remember. But she had never abandoned him.  
  
Harry’s mind was made up, but he wanted to talk to Hermione before he made any specific plans. His decision would certainly lead to a legal struggle as well as a personal one, and Hermione was the only person he trusted in such matters. She was probably also the only person he knew who could ensure what he wanted to happen could happen.  
  
 **The Kensington Wine Rooms, Muggle London**  
  
Harry was poking at a very dark sausage when Hermione found him at small table in a rather dim corner. He was feeling a bit panicky. Not only was he anxious about the conversation he was about to have, but the comforting-sounding “black pudding” he had imagined when he ordered had nothing in common with the rather terrifying solid black balloons he remembered avoiding at meals when he had been at Hogwarts.  
  
Hermione sighed at him and waved a waiter over.  
  
“Please take this away. I’ll have the seared scallop risotto, and my friend will have the tempura fish and chips.”  
  
Harry felt a small spark of hope at her words. “Tempura” sounded a bit dodgy, but they couldn’t really mess up fish and chips, could they? Then he thought of the hideous “pudding” he had been expected to eat and his face fell.  
  
“Are you going to pull faces at me all night, or do you actually have something to discuss?”  
  
“Of course! I’m sorry. I just couldn’t meet you at the Burrow…”  
  
“I understand. Actually, I’ve been dying to try a wine bar for ages, but Ron is averse to…well, not to Muggle fare in general…”  
  
“…to restaurants where he’d have to use a napkin?”  
  
Hermione’s chiding was undermined by the small smirk she couldn’t quite repress.  
  
Harry’s awkwardness melted as he relaxed into his customary role as Hermione’s best friend. No one else knew what to say to him now that he and Ginny were no longer engaged. Her very public and very dramatic reaction to the split had made their friends feel like they had to choose sides in the split.  
  
Harry was rather put out by this. He hadn’t rejected her, after all. They were both pawns in the Ministry’s perverse plans. Her behavior over the past few months made him think he had made a rather lucky escape, after all. He squashed such thoughts immediately, of course. But still…  
  
Only Hermione still treated him the same as she always had. Merlin, how he loved her.  
  
Harry decided blunt was best.  
  
“I’m going to marry Snape.”  
  
Hermione choked on her Vouvray.  
  
"You want to marry Professor Snape?"  
  
The inedible food, the glass of wine he had finished before Hermione had joined him, and the weeks and weeks of thinly-veiled accusations from various members of the Weasley family all combined to make Harry snap.  
  
"Yes, that's exactly it. I jilted Ginny so I could run off with my true love: Severus Snape."  
  
Hermione frowned. Harry felt a bit ashamed of himself for taking out his frustration on her, and he was grateful she didn't walk out on him. She didn't even admonish him.  
  
Before the awkward silence that followed Harry's outburst could drag out into something irreversible, Harry rushed to apologize and explain.  
  
"I'm sorry, I just... Of course I don't want to marry him. But I don't think he deserves to spend the rest of his life in Azkaban. Not after what he did for us—for all of us. I never would have been able to defeat Voldemort without him. Hell, I wouldn't have survived my first year at Hogwarts without him."  
  
Hermione's frown deepened. Harry was afraid she was going to argue with him. When he studied her face more carefully, however, he realized she was wearing her thinking frown, not her pre-shouting frown.  
  
"You are exactly right, Harry. In fact, I can't think of any other way to save him. You are the only surviving ‘war hero’ with the clout and the right bloodline to claim him."  
  
Harry nodded, secretly disappointed Hermione had not managed to find a loophole that he had missed.  
  
"But Harry... Why?"  
  
Harry spluttered, but before he could interrupt, she continued, "Of course Professor Snape doesn't deserve Azkaban. Honestly, no one does. It's barbaric. But why you? You can't save everyone, Harry. You sacrificed your very life for the wizarding world. How many times are you going to throw yourself onto the fire?"  
  
Harry took a deep breath. He knew no one, not even his best friends, understood his perspective on sacrifice. How could they? They had always had something to lose.  
  
He had started with less than nothing—no home, no family. The Dursleys didn't count. He had gained friends and family during his years at Hogwarts, but he had lost many of them. Even those who survived were moving on without him. Ron and Hermione were married. Ginny would be forced to marry someone else. He would never be part of the Weasley family. Never.  
  
If he was never allowed to have anything, how could he make a sacrifice? He had had happiness in his grasp again and again, only to have it ripped away every time. At least he still could help others. No one could take that away from him.  
  
"I owe him, Hermione. Even if I had been able to marry Ginny, I still would have tried to find a way to save him. This kills two birds with one stone, doesn't it? Snape won't have to die in Azkaban, and I won't have to marry some random person who just happens to be a half-blood. Can you imagine the kind of people who would queue to marry 'The Chosen One'?"  
  
Hermione shuddered. They both knew those who didn't have their own prospective marriage partners approved in a timely manner were subject to being sold off for marriage to the highest bidder. The Ministry might say it was only working for the strength and unity of the wizarding populace of Britain, but they were certainly not averse to receiving extra funding from such marriage deals.  
  
"Of course Snape is a bastard—an ugly, cruel, vindictive bastard—but he is our bastard. Leaving him in Azkaban would mean everything that we did, everyone we lost really was for nothing." Harry took another gulp of wine and continued, "After all, we know he won't actually kill me."  
  
Hermione looked doubtful, and Harry fought the urge to hold his thumbs. Eventually she nodded.  
  
As Hermione began to rattle off the names of the reference books she would need to consult, the precedents for such a claim, and key members of the Wizengamot who might be sympathetic to Harry's plans, Harry tucked into his now tepid platter of fish and chips and thanked God he had at least one friend who would never let him down.  
  
 **Summer**  
  
It was a lucky break Hermione was in law school. At least that's what Harry told himself—several times a day. This mantra got him through stifling summer days spent in the back stacks of libraries. He repeated it every time he had to jab a quill into his palm to stay awake as he turned the crumbling pages of yet another index of legal cases.  
  
As summer marched toward fall, he began to lose faith in this half-wish, half-prayer. Hermione fell pregnant at the end of August, and then even she had to admit spending entire days in dark, musty rooms was not the healthiest activity. Ron was so relieved to have his wife back that he finally got up the gumption to tell off Ginny for making Harry so miserable.  
  
Hermione's pregnancy didn't hurt Ron's reconciliation with Harry. As a matter of fact, it ensured she and Ron could stay married. During their exhaustive research on past and current marriage law Hermione had uncovered a tricky and unpublicized clause of the Wizangamot's Mandate on Wizard Marriage: even Ministry-approved marriages would be nullified if the couple did not achieve pregnancy during the first two years of marriage. This made Ron realize just how proscribed all of their lives were. If even he and Hermione could be torn apart by biological facts over which they had no control, Harry could hardly be blamed for not marrying Ginny.  
  
Unfortunately only Harry, Ron, Percy, Molly, and Arthur Weasley believed Hermione. The other Weasleys believed she was reading too much into things, and they rallied around their baby sister. It was easier to blame Harry than it was to face the reality of their brave new world. Once the Mandate had been in force for a few years, the forced nullifications would be hard to ignore. Though Harry wouldn't be surprised if the Ministry managed to find a way to blame the citizenry for them rather than admitting to their draconian methods.  
  
Harry decided it was time to fight fire with fire. No one alive understood draconian measures better than the Malfoys.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry gets in bed with the enem(ies).

**Autumn Equinox  
  
** **Malfoy Manor**  
  
Narcissa Malfoy hid her surprise with the elegance of the part-Veela she was rumored to be. Even so, Harry knew his presence at the Malfoys' Mabon fete was unexpected. Ever since he had saved Draco's life during the war, Narcissa had invited him to every major event that had taken place at the Manor. Harry wasn't quite sure how the senior Mr. Malfoy felt about him, so he had always politely declined the invitations.  
  
He had to admit he was a bit afraid to be back in the Manor, even now. He fancied he could still hear Hermione's screams and Bellatrix's mad laughter. And Lucius had been very keen to use him to appease Voldemort during the war. Who knew how he wanted to use him now?   
  
Harry didn't intend to wait long enough to find out. He had his own idea about how he could be useful to a former Death Eater, and he felt the best way to forestall Lucius's plans was to suggest his own first.  
  
He only took the time to snag a glass of pumpkin juice punch from a passing house elf's tray before he approached his host. Lucius was talking to a posh, elderly couple, neither of whom Harry recognized. When he saw Harry approaching, he extricated himself from the conversation in a matter of moments. By the time Harry reached his side, Lucius was already holding out his hand in welcome.  
  
Harry reached out to shake Lucius's hand, even though he thought it was a bit odd to pretend they were just now making one another's acquaintance. You could have knocked him over with a feather when Lucius grasped his hand and pulled him into a one-armed hug.  
  
"There will be no standing on ceremony with such a good friend of our family."  
  
Harry gaped; he had no idea how to reply to such a fantastical statement.  
  
Lucius smiled and gave a slight nod.   
  
"It is true we have never been particularly friendly to one another. But the Malfoys do not forget their debts."  
  
Harry was confused. He didn't remember ever loaning a Malfoy so much as a spare piece of parchment. Lucius politely sipped his drink and waited for Harry to stop spluttering and respond to his welcome in some sort of coherent manner. Harry's translation of the term "debt" into a wizarding context took a few moments. But then he realized how he could best parry Malfoy's opening thrust.  
  
"I don't forget my debts either, Mr. Malfoy. And I'm afraid I need your help to repay one of my own. Several, in fact."  
  
Lucius raised an eyebrow and suggested that his study would be a better environment for such a serious discussion.  
  
By the time Harry and Lucius left the leather-and-wood-polish-scented room, the party was long over. Harry started to apologize to Narcissa for monopolizing the host, but she deflected him smoothly. Harry could almost hear the unspoken communication between the two Malfoys as they dismissed their house elves and saw him out personally.   
  
Before he Apparated away, he clenched his fists and implored...whatever was out there...that the Malfoys would see his goals as their own. He had heard there was honour between thieves; he hoped the same held true for villains.  
  
 **November**  
  
Harry couldn't believe he had found Hermione a harsh taskmistress. The months he had spent researching various plans with her were insignificant compared to the requirements of going about things the Malfoy way.  
  
As a matter of fact, he thought as he politely nodded his head for the hundredth time during this meeting alone, even being on the run from the Snatchers had been more pleasant than this.  
  
The Malfoy's attorney was droning on and on about the weak spots of various Wizangamot members. Suddenly, a name caught Harry's attention.   
  
"Amos Diggory will be the hardest to convince, of course. He is unwilling to compromise on anything since his son's...unfortunate demise."  
  
Harry blanched at the reminder of yet another of his sins that could never be washed away. He was staring to spin down his usual spiral of guilt when Lucius's smooth reply shocked him out of it.  
  
"Diggory would lose his job at the Ministry's Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures if his unethical use of unicorn blood in his attempt to raise his son from the dead was exposed."  
  
Harry gaped. It was more than illegal to kill a unicorn—trying to raise the dead would guarantee the Dementor's kiss. It was so Slytherin of Lucius to leave these facts unspoken; Harry was impressed despite himself. Blackmail was inexcusable—of course—but it was certainly effective. The lawyer simply nodded his head and continued down the list of names. And just like that, Harry found himself on the (relatively) moral high ground. His disastrous attempt to share the Cup was nothing compared to the deliberate murder of the purest creature known to wizardkind for use in a Dark ritual. Lucius’s logic might be despicable, but it was airtight.   
  
Harry kept his thoughts to himself and continued nodding along with Lucius’s attorney. He was literally trying to get into bed with the Slytherin elite—to balk at their tactics at this point would be self-defeating to the extreme.  
  
Harry may have accepted the situation, but he was still amazed Lucius Malfoy was using his legendary skill at manipulation in Harry's favor for once. Of course, it wasn't really for Harry. Lucius was putting in the weeks and weeks of focused effort for Snape's benefit. Harry might be suspicious of Lucius, but he could hardly doubt Lucius was on Snape’s side, at least. The two men had ended up on opposing sides of the Second Wizarding War, but it seemed their shared history had led to a relationship with deeper roots than could be pulled out in even by such a horrible rift.  
  
Sometimes—as when Lucius raised an eyebrow at one or another of Harry’s inevitable social gaffes—Harry fancied Lucius didn’t think he was good enough for Snape. He himself felt he was barely keeping his head above these treacherous political waters.  
  
Harry’s new mantra was “Needs must.” He rather thought it might be Lucius’s, as well.  
  
 **December 24  
  
Azkaban**  
  
“So, I thought it would be best if we were married. To each other.”  
  
Harry took a deep breath after he finished his rather rambling explanation of why it really was a good idea for Snape and him to get married. He looked down at his feet while he waited for Snape to respond. He waited a long time.  
  
Eventually Harry peeked up through his lashes to get a glimpse of Snape’s face. Was he so horrified at the thought of marrying Harry that he had dropped dead?   
  
When he caught Harry looking, Snape nodded his head. It was a slight nod, and Harry wasn’t sure if he had imagined it.  
  
“Does that mean ‘yes’?”  
  
Snape smirked.  
  
“Happy Christmas, Mr. Potter.”  
  
 **January 9**  
  
Ministry of Magic  
  
After long months of scheming, flattering, and bribing his way through half of the wizarding upper class, Harry had almost given up hope. But once Lucius had finally gotten Harry into Azkaban to see Snape, everything had fallen into place.  
  
He was under no misapprehension that Snape's consent had anything to do with the final Ministry approval. Snape would not be freed—“ownership” of Snape would merely be transferred from the Ministry to him. Once the Ministry had pocketed enough of Harry's galleons, they were happy to have the maintenance of another prisoner out of their hands.  
  
As Harry ignored his ethics and signed the receipt for his husband-to-be, he swore to himself he would never, ever make Snape feel like he was anything less than free.  
  
Then Ginny Weasley and Justin Finch-Fletchley joined them in the waiting room.


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It becomes clear who the boss is around here.

**12 Grimmauld Place**  
  
Harry was married to Severus, but he knew next to nothing about the man. When they had been at Hogwarts, their identities and roles had been clear. Harry was an impudent brat, and Severus was a greasy git.   
  
Now Severus was a martyr, a Potions Master, an ex-spy.  
  
And Harry was, well, he wasn’t really anything. His notoriety had made it impossible for him to find a job. His parents had left him quite a fortune, and although Harry had used up most of the Black fortune on his quest to get Severus out of Azkaban, he still owned Grimmauld Place free and clear.   
  
Neither he nor Severus really needed to work. But they couldn’t sit in this dark, dusty place forever.  
  
Of course, Grimmauld Place wasn't so dusty anymore. Kreacher had been so overwhelmed when he found out Severus Snape would soon be joining their household Harry had feared he might keel over and haunt the place until he got his head mounted on the wall. Instead, the elderly house-elf had cleaned the house.   
  
This project took several months, during which Harry was shifted from room to room like a particularly uncooperative piece of furniture. He never quite knew where to find his clothes and other belongings—indeed, he often had no idea where he was meant to sleep—but the final results were staggering.  
  
Rather than a filthy, infested wreck, Harry now lived in a very clean—and rather empty—house. The majority of the Blacks' possessions had been, at the very least, permeated with bad memories. Kreacher disposed of almost everything. Harry should have been upset his possessions were being thrown out, but he was afraid that if he said anything, Kreacher would stop. He did move his Quidditch gear over to Ron and Hermione's place for a bit, just to be safe.  
  
The most amazing change was that Walburga Black was gone. The frame of her portrait remained, but it had the decidedly empty feel of a boarded-up house. Harry couldn't resist asking Kreacher how he had done it. Kreacher simply said he thought his Master would be more comfortable if he wasn't reminded of his half-blood status. Harry began to ask "why now"? Then he realized the Master to whom Kreacher was referring was not Harry at all.   
  
If Severus was surprised by the changes at Grimmauld Place, he hid it well. Harry was almost vibrating with nerves when they arrived at the house after the exhausting reception. Severus was as cool and collected as ever. It was maddening.  
  
Still, Harry was the host—or something. At any rate, he felt responsible for Severus's comfort.   
  
He steadied himself and asked, "Would you like some tea?"  
  
"No thank you. There was ample food and drink at the reception."  
  
Harry blushed and felt like an idiot. Of course Severus wasn't thirsty, and of course he would mock Harry for making such an obvious error. But...when he looked at Severus he saw nothing on the man's face except a slight smile. It wasn't even a twisted smile, let alone a sneer.  
  
Harry was bewildered; he had no idea what to say or do next. He continued to peer at Severus’s face, waiting for the expected scorn to manifest.  
  
Severus finally broke the protracted silence by sighing loudly.  
  
“I have done my best to make this easier for you, Potter…Harry. Unfortunately, it is time for you to fuck me. You don’t have to look at my face, in fact, I could glamour my hair orange, if it would help.”  
  
Harry didn’t know whether he was more horrified by his former professor’s use of his name, of his use of the word “fuck,” or by the suggestion that Harry wanted him to pretend to be Ginny.  
  
“I was…I was thinking…well, I thought you would want to be left alone…”  
  
“Harry, I am not going back to Azkaban. I am sorry,” he spat the word, “the prospect is so horrifying to you, but you are surely too much of a Gryffindor to allow things to progress this far if this is some sort of game to you.”  
  
Harry had thought he couldn’t be more uncomfortable, but he had clearly not reached the limit of his capacity for embarrassment and shame. Now Severus thought Harry was capable of the cruelty needed to play games with a man’s life.  
  
“No! No. I’m not horrified, and this is not a joke. I owe you my life, hell, the whole world owes you for keeping that madman from destroying everything. I would do anything to keep you out of Azkaban. That is what is disgusting—that the Ministry of Magic would betray you that way.”  
  
Harry had clearly said something wrong again, for Severus’s face lost none of its anger. After a few moments, however, he resumed the mild, pleasant façade he had displayed during the reception. Harry was glad he wasn’t being scolded any more, but he couldn’t help but feel guilty about—and rather insulted by—Severus’s lack of expression.  
  
“We shall get nowhere by discussing our reasons for entering into this contract. We are bonded, and we shall both have to make the best of it if we are to have any chance at remaining so. Now, my husband, it is time to commence our marital relations. I have no little skill at seduction; it has saved my arse more times than this. I can safely guarantee you will be satisfied.”  
  
“But…why would you want to…seduce me?”   
  
Harry tried to stay calm, but the word had piqued his anger. Was everyone going to treat him like an animal, to be led around by the nose?  
  
Severus’s eyes narrowed.   
  
“Of course. Why would I be so idiotic? A good-looking, rich, powerful man consented to work tirelessly with his enemies for months in order to save me. What ever could be attractive about that?”  
  
Harry gaped. He couldn’t understand Severus’s sarcasm anymore. He wasn’t rich or powerful or good-looking. Not like the Malfoys, anyway. He was just trying to be a decent person.  
  
Severus waited only a few moments before he spat out, “I see. I put my best foot forward in an attempt to show my appreciation, and I am still too hideous for the Golden Gryffindor to fuck. I shall have Kreacher show me to my room. Do let me know when you’ve decided just what it is you want with me.”  
  
He turned on his heel and stalked up the stairs. The house elf glared at Harry and followed him.   
  
It was a long night. Harry was too nervous to go upstairs in his own house. Well, he guessed it was only half his house now. He wasn’t going to abide by that Ministry shite that Severus was his property. He didn’t consider Kreacher his property, either. He realized that if you counted the other two residents of the house, he was definitely the minority shareholder—so to speak. He chuckled ruefully at the realization and began to wonder if he should just find somewhere else to live and just leave them to it.  
  
He hadn’t realized Severus had come down the stairs until his chuckle was met by a loud sniff.  
  
“I would prefer to enjoy my two years of freedom without being mocked by my own husband. If you cannot bring yourself to at least show basic respect towards me, I would prefer to return to Azkaban immediately.”  
  
Harry leapt off the sofa.   
  
“I wasn’t laughing at you! I was laughing at you and Kreacher…”  
  
Severus’s glare would have turned a less foolhardy man to stone.  
  
“Merlin, no! I mean, I was laughing at myself and thinking you both would be happier if I left immediately. And what…what do you mean ‘your two years of freedom’? We are legally bonded now. They can’t take you away from me.”  
  
“Much as I am flattered by your admission that I am your legal property, I do not think that even your celebrity will nullify the breeding requirements of the current marriage laws. If you could circumvent the system, I’m sure you would be happily making love to Ginevra Weasley every night, and I would be left to quietly rot in my cell in Azkaban. At least then one of us would have our dignity intact.”  
  
Harry could barely follow this litany of accusations. He wrinkled his forehead as he tried to decide which assumption to correct first. Surprisingly, the image of he and Ginny being married was the most disturbing. He had seen her true colors now, and he definitely felt he had made a lucky escape.  
  
Severus’s right eyebrow was lifted so far into his hairline that he looked like a caricature of himself. Harry couldn’t afford another laugh—he had no desire to be hexed. He decided to address the most important issue first.  
  
“I do mean for us to have a child! Of course!”  
  
“How can we do so without engaging in sexual intercourse? Even magic cannot accomplish such a miracle.”  
  
“Well, Muggle science can! I thought maybe artificial insemination…”  
  
“The price of my freedom will be that I allow myself to be pumped full of your illustrious sperm with a turkey baster?”  
  
Harry was surprised Severus knew what artificial insemination was—let alone what a turkey baster was. Even more shockingly, Severus actually seemed to be considering the prospect.  
  
Severus sighed. “It is not what I had hoped for—in the unlikely event that I was ever married—but it is a fair trade for my release from Azkaban. I do hope you realize that if the Ministry discovers you are having sexual relations outside of your sanctioned marriage, you will be held accountable, not I. I’m not sure what would happen to me if you were sent to Azkaban, so please do be discreet.”  
  
Severus once again turned on his heel and took his meal in his room. Kreacher pointedly ignored Harry, who eventually roused himself enough to make some toast. He was so busy puzzling over Severus’s interpretation of the results of his suggestion that he ate burned toast without even realizing it. Hours later he noticed the smell of smoke in the kitchen and could not account for it.  
  
Marriage was nothing like he had imagined it to be.


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry learns that he's been doing it all wrong.

  
**Grimmauld Place**  
  
They finally had their first meal together in their home that evening. Kreacher made quite a racket slamming down every plate, but both men ignored it. Harry was relieved Severus didn’t rub the house elf’s disrespect in his face.  
  
When Kreacher finally retreated into the kitchen, Harry opened his mouth to speak.  
  
Severus forestalled him.   
  
“I apologize for my assumption that we would engage in intimate relations. I was simply trying…”  
  
“Listen. Just once, can you please listen to me? I hadn’t even thought about sex with you. Or with anyone…not in months. I…I don’t even like it that much, and I just assumed you hated me so much that… Please, just let me finish! I barely even hoped we could be civil to one another. You’re not hideous. You are brave and clever and…when you’re not wearing black you look…safer.”  
  
Severus lifted his napkin off of his lap and dabbed his lips with it. Harry watched—spellbound—waiting for the dressing-down of his life.  
  
“You don’t like sex?”  
  
Of all the things he thought Severus would say, this was the last. He was so startled that he answered without thinking.  
  
“Don’t see the point, really. A lot of awkward fumbling about—I’d rather ride my broom.”  
  
Severus eventually stopped laughing long enough to say, “You clearly haven’t been doing it right.”  
  
Things were easier after that. Severus did cast a derisive look at Harry every time he came in—windblown and sweaty—from flying, but Harry reckoned it was worth taking the piss not to have Severus in a constant snit over being sexually rejected.  
  
After a few weeks of cohabitation, Harry had to admit that this marriage thing wasn't too bad. It was certainly less stressful than dating a girl. Severus never asked him what he was thinking or tried to get him to wear certain kinds of clothing; he never expected gifts or got upset that Harry had forgotten some sort of mysterious occasion or had missed a hint about something he should be saying or doing.  
  
Severus set up a lab in the basement and spent most of each day there. Harry puttered around; he often found himself forgetting that there was even another person in the house. But after that first horrible day, Severus never missed a meal with Harry.   
  
Harry had only ever been treated in one of two ways: with mistrustful avoidance or unrelenting attention. Even Ron and Hermione had always paid keen attention to his every mood. It was relaxing to be with someone who didn’t completely ignore him, but who didn’t push either.  
  
It was hard to find things to talk about in the beginning. Harry was a bit tongue-tied in the face of his former professor and nemesis. But Severus had far more social grace than Harry had ever suspected, and at first he carried the weight of their conversations. As Harry got used to spending time with Severus, he often found himself engaged in a lively discussion before he realized it. Afters stretched out into the evening more and more often.  
  
One night Harry got up the courage to ask Severus why Kreacher liked him so much. Severus raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Come on—you know what I mean. He doesn't like anyone. But he loves you. He cleaned up this place for you. He even got rid of Walburga for you. He knows you aren't a pureblood..."  
  
"You might be surprised how nuanced house elves' minds are."  
  
Harry thought of Dobby, but he bit his tongue. He didn't want to argue; they'd been getting along so well. He was also very curious about Kreacher's obvious attachment to Severus.  
  
Severus must have taken Harry's silence as acceptance of his point, as he continued in a much kinder tone.  
  
"You know that Kreacher was passionately loyal to Regulus Black. While he certainly does not 'love' me, I do believe that he loved Regulus."  
  
Harry forced himself to remain silent. He had found that Severus was much more likely to be forthcoming if he was not questioned or hurried.  
  
Severus continued, "I was Regulus's friend. I may remind Kreacher of happier times."  
  
Harry wasn't sure how having the real Walburga Black around would have allowed for happier times. Her portrait had been bad enough. But he knew how loyal house elves could be... Wait, he thought, Severus and Regulus were 'friends'?  
  
"You mean you were..."  
  
Severus scoffed.  
  
"No more than you and Ronald Weasley are. No, we were not romantically or sexually involved. I was Regulus's first real friend at Hogwarts. The first friend he had who had not been hand-picked for him by his parents. As I'm sure you can surmise, their choice of friends for their sons was not necessarily...'nice,' I suppose you would say."  
  
Harry thought about Draco and Crabbe and Goyle. How differently everything would have gone for all of them if Harry had actually been sorted into Slytherin and had become friends with Draco. Draco had had his moments during the war, brief flashes of resistance to his parents' and their Master's plans for him. But Regulus had given his life in the attempt to defeat Voldemort—not for glory, but secretly and alone. Harry couldn't help but think that the friendship with Severus must have influenced Regulus greatly. Honestly, even if he had been friends with Draco, he doubted that he could have affected him in such a vital way.   
  
They passed onto another subject with no further discussion of Severus's revelation, but Harry thought about it a lot in the days that followed. He was realizing, more and more, just how complicated things had been during the first war against Voldemort.   
  
Sirius had told him that the world wasn't divided into good people and Death Eaters, but his actions had never backed that up. Harry had only known Sirius as he was after Azkaban and from what he had seen in a fragment of Snape's memory. He had seen him as being full of hatred and rage towards Slytherins in general, and Severus in particular. But it had never really been that simple.  
  
That horrible night in the Shrieking Shack, Sirius had wanted to kill Pettigrew, not Severus. In fact, that whole year he had seen Severus as an annoying distraction more than anything else. Pettigrew had been a friend; a friend who had betrayed everyone. Severus had been an enemy, but there had been reasons for that. Not good ones—they were childish, even—but reasons nonetheless. Severus was no Pettigrew.   
  
Harry didn't really know what had happened between Severus and Lucius in the past, but Lucius's continuing loyalty, despite it all, spoke volumes about Severus's worth as a friend. So did Kreacher's continued love for his master's friend. Severus could deny it all he wanted, but Harry was sure that he knew love when he saw it.  
  
There weren't any more personal revelations during the honeymoon month, and there was no more discussion of sex. Harry was relieved that the drama and tension of their first few days of marriage did not resurface. Those arguments had almost been worse than when Severus used to berate and punish him in school. At least then Harry had known what Severus thought about him: he was a spoiled, arrogant, lazy child who got away with everything. All the talk of seduction and games had been far more confusing and painful. Harry might be learning about how complicated people could be, but he vastly preferred things to be simple.  
  
A few days after this conversation, Harry found that his room was clean and tidy when he went upstairs for bed. He carefully didn’t mention it to Severus; he didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. But he did make sure to thank Kreacher effusively.  
  
When they had been married for exactly one month, Severus very deliberately laid his utensils down after dinner and once again patted his mouth delicately with his napkin.  
  
Harry froze like a mouse that had spotted a Kneazle. This hadn't gone well last time.  
  
“I hate to endanger this détente we have been enjoying. But it is more difficult for men to fall pregnant than it is for women—even if the men are wizards. I think tonight might be a wise time to begin our…efforts. I have been working on more sophisticated methods of artificial insemination. It was quite insightful of you to suggest such a melding of Muggle science and magical research. Those of us who have been ensconced in the wizarding world for too long often forget Muggles can be quite ingenious.”  
  
After Harry was relatively sure Severus had stopped talking—if only to take a breath—he gathered up his Gryffindor courage and took a chance.  
  
“About that…I was thinking I might be able to learn something from you…”  
  
Harry ignored Severus’s snort. If he worried about whether Severus was going to laugh at him, he would never get this out.  
  
“…about what I’ve been doing wrong. With sex.”  
  
He had never seen Severus smile so widely before. It was terrifying.  
  
As Harry followed Severus up the stairs, he kept a vice grip on his courage. He couldn’t believe he had asked Severus Snape to have sex with him. Not that his husband was disgusting. After seeing proof of his bravery and his strength—not to mention his suffering—during and after the war, Harry would never again look at Severus with anything but awe.   
  
And that was the problem. Over the past month he had realized that he would always look up to Severus. He had started the campaign to save him out of a sense of moral outrage—and more than a little spite. He had been so angry at the Ministry and at the wizarding world in general he would have done anything to subvert them. He had needed to work with Lucius Malfoy to achieve his goals, but he had enjoyed it because Lucius did not deign to follow the Ministry’s laws—or any laws whatsoever.  
  
Severus was different. He had the strictest moral code Harry had ever encountered. It was not the same as everyone else’s morality; in fact, it might not be the same as anyone else’s morality. But it had its own logic, and Severus followed it wholly and precisely. Harry worked on being a good person, but his conception of what was the right thing to do wavered. Severus was immutable.  
  
How could he presume to ask such a man for something as tawdry as sex? Wasn’t it bad enough that—on paper and by law if not in spirit—he owned him? The thought sickened him. And now to ask for Severus to endure being pawed at…  
  
And Severus was terrifying. His spite knew no bounds when he was angered. Harry rather felt as if he had invited a Hungarian Horntail to bed.  
  
Harry had worked himself into a nervous sweat by the time they reached Severus’s bedroom.   
  
He stood rigid as a plank—eyes closed—at the threshold of the room. He would not run away; he would be ashamed to show such cowardice. But he felt as if he might scream or punch something. And he knew, he just knew Severus would read his anxiety as disgust and would verbally eviscerate him and leave him feeling guilty and cruel on top of everything else. He had never had such a bad idea in his entire life.  
  
Harry winced when he felt a touch on his cheek. But the touch was gentle, and the fingers caressed his cheek, combed through his hair and soothed down his neck. It felt amazing. Harry had never experienced such a gentle touch. Hermione, Sirius and the Weasleys well-nigh tackled him with their hugs, and Ginny…  
  
He opened his eyes and blurted out, “I don’t know what to do! Ginny always…”  
  
Severus touched his index finger to Harry’s lips in a shushing gesture.  
  
“The first rule for enjoying a sexual encounter is to never mention a previous lover.”  
  
There were rules? That was puzzling, but it was actually quite comforting.  
  
“What is the second rule?”  
  
“Don’t ask so many questions.”  
  
Right. He could do that. He chewed on his bottom lip to stop himself from saying another word.  
  
Now that his eyes were open, he couldn’t avoid looking at Severus. Their faces were only inches apart. He was terrified Severus was going to pounce on him and stick his tongue down his throat or maybe rend his throat with those teeth, and this fear made him bite his lip even harder.  
  
Severus leaned forward until their foreheads were touching. He ran his hands through Harry’s hair, and then he did it again. Harry began to breathe again, but he still felt as though he might pass out.   
  
“I think we need to sit down.”  
  
Harry started.  
  
“We won’t lie down, we will simply sit. Relax. You are fine.”  
  
Harry let himself be led to the bed. He froze again when Severus sat down on the edge of the bed, but when he realized Severus wasn’t going to force him he sat down. His shoulders were beginning to ache from the tension.  
  
“The first lesson will be on kissing. We will not do anything else tonight. We have plenty of time…”  
  
Harry started to protest that they didn’t, they really didn’t, but Severus interrupted him.  
  
“We have plenty of time. I do not need to get pregnant in two months. We have two years. We will take one step at a time. It will not take us two years to learn how to kiss one another. You asked me to teach you, not to ravage you. If you are to learn, you will need to relax and concentrate. I will not let any harm come to you; I never have.”  
  
Harry let out a great, shuddering sigh. Severus was right. He had always done everything he could to protect Harry—from Voldemort, from his own recklessness, even from Dumbledore. He had taken the blame for killing Dumbledore off of Harry’s shoulders and borne that weight himself. If he was once again willing to take care of Harry, the least Harry could do was to trust him.  
  
He lifted his head up and gave a rueful smile.   
  
“Thank you.”  
  
Kissing Severus was like nothing Harry had ever experienced. He thanked his lucky stars he had been too tense to open his mouth when Severus began to kiss him. These were nothing like the sloppy, loose kisses he had shared with Cho and Ginny.   
  
Severus had thin lips, but they moved against Harry’s like a sinuous wave. When Severus ran his tongue gently across Harry’s savaged lower lip, he couldn’t help letting out a moan. Severus took advantage of Harry’s relaxed mouth to tease their tongues together—stroking and withdrawing until Harry couldn’t resist following and tasted Severus.   
  
He tasted like clover honey.  
  
Harry didn’t realize he was trying to climb inside Severus’s mouth until he felt himself being pushed away gently, but firmly. He whined as their lips lost contact and strained against the hands holding him back. Severus pulled him into an embrace and once again ran his fingers through his hair.  
  
“I’m not going anywhere. We are bonded. There is a lifetime’s worth of kisses ahead, if you want them.”  
  
Harry wanted them.


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A night out turns out to be even more challenging than expected. Staying in is much nicer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An extra long chappie to get you through the weekend.
> 
> nb: Ginny is angry right now, and she is very, very young. Things will get better for her . . . Eventually.

**Grimmauld Place**

The honeymoon was officially over. Harry hadn’t even considered travel—he had had enough fears about what being married to Severus would be like without throwing new locales into the mix. Even though they had not gone anywhere, no one had attempted to contact them during their honeymoon month, as was the tradition. But the morning after Harry and Severus kissed for the first time, the Floo didn’t stop roaring.  
  
Severus spent the day in his lab, as usual. Of course, he had no callers. Harry, on the other hand, was overwhelmed. Almost everyone tactfully avoided asking anything about the honeymoon, though Seamus did jokingly question whether Snape was in Harry’s house at all. Harry snapped out a defensive remark about the importance of Severus’s research before he even thought about it. Seamus just laughed harder. Harry grumbled to himself about Gryffindor idiots afterwards until he had to laugh at himself. He was beginning to sound just like his husband.  
  
Seamus’s reference to “Snape” did get Harry thinking. How was Severus going to be addressed now? He couldn’t very well invite everyone to address him by his first name. He was no longer a professor, and “Mr. Potter” was out of the question. He decided to ask Severus what he wanted to be called.  
  
They would have to decide soon, as Harry had accepted an invitation to dinner that night at Ron and Hermione’s house. Hermione was now six months pregnant, and Harry was excited to see how big the baby had grown. After he agreed, however, he realized that perhaps he should have consulted with Severus first. He still felt as though Severus was a sort of roommate. He had to remember that they were partners now.  
  
When he descended the stairs to the lab he felt almost as nervous as he had on the way up to Severus’s bedroom. He hadn’t been down there since Severus took up residence, and he felt very awkward about intruding. He hesitated for a long time before he got up the courage to knock on the door.  
  
The door swung open and Harry saw Severus on the far side of the room, washing his hands in a large sink.  
  
“You could have just come in, you know. It is your house, after all.”  
  
Harry flushed.   
  
“I would never go into your laboratory without being invited. This is our house, and this is your private space.”   
  
He surprised himself with his own vehemence, but the thought of owning the house brought up thoughts of owning Severus, and it sickened him.  
  
When Severus turned around, his expression was neutral.  
  
“Of course. I would never accuse you of intentional rudeness. I apologize.”  
  
This was horrible. Harry had come here to apologize for accepting a dinner invitation without clearing it with Severus, and now Severus was apologizing to him and things were getting more bollixed up by the moment.  
  
Severus must have seen the confusion and frustration on Harry’s face, for when he had finished drying his hands and had removed his protective robes he strode over and embraced Harry. Harry stiffened, but when Severus ran a hand through his hair he softened marginally.  
  
“I’m sorry…I didn’t mean…”  
  
“Let’s go upstairs and sit down. I assume you have something you want to talk to me about. It must be rather important—you’ve never come down here before.”  
  
When they were seated on the couch in the sitting room, Harry once again felt awkward. What should have been a simple question had snowballed into a misunderstanding and now they had to “talk about it".  
  
Severus no longer had on his “pleasant” mask, but had relaxed and was waiting patiently for Harry to speak. That helped, and Harry took a few moments to gather his thoughts.  
  
“I only wanted to tell you…well, I wanted to apologize because…I told Hermione we would go to dinner at their house tonight and I didn’t ask you first and that was rude and I’m so sorry.”  
  
Severus smiled.   
  
“I thought you had set the kitchen on fire, at the very least. You must know I would never keep you from your friends.”  
  
“I know that! I only meant that you might have other plans,” Harry suddenly realized how impossible that would be, “or that you might not want to see them.”  
  
Severus took Harry’s hands in his, leaned forward, and pressed a kiss against the corner of his mouth.  
  
“I cannot say I am a social creature by nature. I would not have accepted such an invitation in the past. But we are married now, and I will join you and your friends whenever you wish.”  
  
“It’s not an order, I mean, you can do whatever you want…”  
  
“I want to be your husband. That means we support one another. It is not as simple as giving and receiving orders. What time will we be leaving?”  
  
After Harry choked out the time, Severus nodded and then descended to his lab once again. Harry was so stunned at his husband's declaration he completely forgot to ask Severus what he wanted to be called.

**Ron and Hermione’s Flat**  
  
Harry hadn’t really known what to expect from their first outing as a married couple, but this was Armageddon.   
  
When they had first arrived, Ron had gaped like a landed fish at Severus. Harry was offended until Hermione carefully complimented Severus on his outfit. It took Harry a moment before he realized that, aside from at their bonding ceremony, his friends had never seen Severus wear anything other than black. The indigo waistcoat and forest green robes were familiar to him after a month of living with Severus, but they probably seemed almost outlandish to the others.  
  
They had barely recovered from that gaffe when the Floo flared to life again, and Ginny and Justin stepped through. Severus maintained his pleasant façade, but Harry glared at Hermione. She mouthed “I’m sorry” at him as she greeted the new arrivals.  
  
Ron was frantically trying to keep things cheerful by introducing everyone to one another, which was patently ridiculous. It got infinitely worse when he came to Severus.  
  
“And of course you know Professor…I mean Mister…”  
  
Ron cast a questioning look at Harry. Harry could only blush and shake his head.  
  
“I prefer to remain ‘Master Snape’ in company, as it is my professional title. If that is acceptable to you, Harry.”  
  
“Shouldn't you be calling Harry 'Master'?" Ginny mocked.  
  
Harry could only glare. He was afraid that if he opened his mouth he would hex Ginny. She smirked as she turned and herded her husband into the living room. She made sure to call him “Justin” loudly no fewer than four times during the short walk. Ron glowered as he followed them, leaving Severus, Harry, and Hermione standing in the kitchen.  
  
“I am so sorry! Ginny didn’t ask, an owl arrived only a few minutes ago announcing that we were the first people they wanted to see once their honeymoon was over. We didn’t even have a chance to Floo you—not that you wouldn’t be welcome here despite Ginny’s presumption…”  
  
“Of course you are not at fault, Hermione. It was lovely of you to invite us. This is our first outing after our honeymoon as well, and I know there is no one whom Harry would rather see than you and Ronald. You are his family, and although families are never perfect, they are still precious. Now if Harry and I might have a moment?”  
  
Harry could tell that Hermione was trying not to show her shock at Severus’s polite speech, but she still fluttered about for a few moments before she managed to leave the kitchen.  
  
Severus put a hand on Harry’s shoulder, and he crumpled.  
  
“I am so sorry this happened. We can just leave now—this is unbelievable. I can’t believe she would be so rude to you. I’m sorry I ever said yes to Hermione…”  
  
“Harry. You did nothing wrong. You are not responsible for Ginevra’s immaturity or her rudeness. I do not care what that chit thinks of me. My only concern is how you feel. I would hate to see you surrender the field to her, but if you do not feel up to dealing with this we can go home.”  
  
Harry had come to feel less intimidated by Severus over the past month, but in these last few days Harry had seen a whole new side of him. It made Harry’s head spin: Ginny was being a git and Severus was being supportive. When Severus pulled Harry into his arms, he melted against him in relief.   
  
Harry sighed happily as Severus combed his fingers through his hair. He raised his head from Severus’s chest and his lips were captured in a gentle kiss. He lost track of where he was until he heard an indignant squawk.   
  
He turned to see Ginny glaring at him and Severus. He expected to find a matching glare on Severus’s face, but he continued to hold Harry and gaze down at him. As Hermione rushed into the kitchen and saw this tableau, the smirk she gave Ginny made Harry start laughing. Hermione also began to laugh, and Ginny stormed out of the room. Still chuckling, Harry took Severus’s hand and led him into the living room.  
  
Ginny fumed for the rest of the night, but Harry carefully ignored her and was glad to see that his friends did as well. They spent their time talking about Ron’s job and Hermione’s pregnancy. Severus even volunteered some tidbits about one of his current research projects he thought Hermione might find interesting.   
  
Harry didn’t have much more to add to the conversation after he had admired Hermione’s belly and was lucky enough to feel the baby kick. He spent most of the evening feeling proud of his husband for carrying his and Harry’s weight in the conversation and musing about pregnancy.   
  
He did notice Justin’s increasingly forceful attempts to prod Ginny out of her sulk. By the time the couple left, Harry couldn’t tell which of them was angrier.  
  
Hermione and Severus lingered, discussing the relative merits of nettle and raspberry tea for decreasing chances of anemia during the later stages of pregnancy. Ron drew Harry into the kitchen.  
  
“Listen, mate…”  
  
“It’s ok, Ron. I know Ginny. I know how competitive she is on the Quidditch field, and how angry she was when we left her behind at Hogwarts that last year. I don’t think of this as a competition or as a battle, but I do know that you and Hermione can’t change how she feels about it. She’s family, Ron.”  
  
Ron smiled and shook his head.  
  
“The professor’s really rubbing off on you, isn't he?”  
  
Harry blushed and began to stutter.  
  
“Oi! Get your mind out of the gutter, mate! I honestly think you and the professor are a good match, and I’m glad you finally have someone to look after you, but I do not want to think about him and sex…or you and sex. Listen, would you want to hear details about what Hermione and I get up to?”  
  
“Bloody hell, Ron! We haven’t even had sex yet!”  
  
Of course, Severus and Hermione took this as their cue to enter the kitchen. Everyone froze for a moment, not knowing how to react. Then Severus chuckled.   
  
“Indeed. I am attempting to teach Harry that sex can be enjoyable. I am afraid that up until now he has had only unpleasant experiences, and we need to do quite a bit of remedial work.”  
  
 **12 Grimmauld Place**  
  
As Severus whisked him into the Floo, Harry saw a sputtering Ron and a hysterically laughing Hermione spinning away through the green flames.  
  
The moment Harry stumbled out of the Floo into their living room, Severus caught him up in his arms. Harry was still giggling over Severus’s parting shot, and he offered no resistance when he was carried to the couch. He laughed even harder when he was dumped unceremoniously onto the cushions. But he stilled when he saw the look in Severus’s eyes.   
  
Severus threw off his over robes and methodically unbuttoned each of the many buttons on his waistcoat, keeping his eyes on Harry the entire time. Harry’s breath quickened—he wasn’t quite convinced his husband wasn’t angry with him. It had been an incredibly trying evening, and Harry realized he hadn’t been much help. He started to speak, but Severus silenced him with a glare. Now Harry was really worried.  
  
When Severus had stripped down to trousers and an unbuttoned dress shirt, he climbed onto the couch—which had become quite a bit larger—and stalked towards Harry. Harry remained still, but he couldn’t help worrying his lower lip.  
  
Severus leaned over Harry on one arm and lowered his head to run his tongue along that distressed lip. His other hand rode up under Harry’s jumper. It tickled, but at the same time it really, really didn’t. He moaned, and Severus plundered his mouth.   
  
Just as Harry was becoming light-headed, Severus freed his mouth and began kissing his way down his neck. His hand continued to caress Harry’s chest, and now it really should have tickled, and Harry was tingling, but it wasn’t funny at all, and when Severus bit the place where Harry’s neck met his shoulder and pinched Harry’s nipple at the same time, Harry cried out in pleasure.  
  
And then Severus pulled away, and Harry whined, but he only pulled off Harry’s jumper and vest and laid him back down. Harry arched up towards Severus’s mouth and hands, and he didn’t even notice that he was making mewling sounds like a kitten.  
  
But when Harry realized the hot, hard thing pushing against his inner thigh was Severus’s prick, he shivered and pushed himself back against the cushions.  
  
Severus didn’t push after him, but he didn’t retreat, either.  
  
“There’s nothing to be afraid of, I promise. I won’t ever make you do anything you aren’t ready for. I can’t help being aroused by you—you are gorgeous and innocent and when I feel you pressing against me it is impossible not to want you. But for now we can make each other feel very good without even undressing. Let me show you.”  
  
He cupped his hand over Harry’s flagging erection and squeezed him through the layers of cloth. Harry moaned and arched up again, pulling Severus down for more kisses. Severus rubbed him through his trousers and swallowed Harry’s gasps and his moans and his cries when he came all over the inside of his pants.   
  
Severus pulled back and smiled as he gave Harry’s softening prick one more squeeze through the now damp trousers. Then he leaned back against the other arm of the couch and pulled his cock out of his flies.  
  
By the time Harry gathered his wits, Severus had his head thrown back and was thrusting up into his fist faster and faster. Harry watched as Severus ran his thumb over the head of his cock again and again and his thrusts grew more erratic. When Severus strained up taut as a bow and came all over his own fingers, Harry felt desperately excited even though he had just come himself. Severus lowered himself back onto the cushions and opened his eyes. When he saw the hungry look on Harry’s face, he smiled.  
  



	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry begins to think outside the box.

****

**Muggle London**

Harry felt in need of some advice after this display of his obvious lack of sexual finesse. He firecalled Hermione a few days later and caught her just as she was heading out to shop for baby supplies in Muggle London. She was more than happy to have Harry come along.

By the time Hermione had dismissed Mothercare as too average and Petit Bateau as “too Malfoy,” Harry had worked up enough courage to raise the subject of his sexual ineptitude. Unfortunately, that’s when they walked into Mamas and Papas. Hermione seemed to forget Harry even existed as she wandered around the store as dazed as a second-year on her first visit to Honeydukes.

Harry held his tongue and let her ooh and ah. All the baby gear had looked pretty much the same to him in the other stores. But the stuffed toys here were different. They weren’t the pastel, overstuffed animals that were so abundant everywhere else. These were brightly colored and each one had several different textures. There was one little cow that looked so absurdly happy that Harry couldn’t resist picking it up and looking it in the face.

When Hermione found him communing with the cow, she said, “It’s not all bad, really.”

Harry dropped the cow and tried to look nonchalant.

“I mean, of course the mandate is despicable. I’m going to fight it as hard as I can—as an attorney and as a citizen. But we can’t blame the babies for it.”

She was rubbing her hand over her baby bump as she said this, and Harry suddenly felt a pang of envy. Why did Severus have to be the one to get pregnant? Pregnancy would agree with neither his potions nor his (lack of) patience. Plus, he was older than Harry and less fit. The Ministry’s demands were ridiculous…

“Hermione? Is there a legal reason why Severus has to carry the baby?”

Hermione’s eyes widened. She then squinted and Harry could almost hear the parchments shuffling in her brain.

“Absolutely not,” she finally declared.

She picked up the cow and plopped it into her trolley.

Harry never did ask Hermione how to give a proper blowjob. As she made her purchases, he realized that it wasn’t only his private life he would be exposing. He was married now, and he reckoned that meant that he shouldn’t gossip about his husband. Not that he meant to gossip, but the thought of Severus finding out Harry had discussed his cock with Hermione made him blanch. Perhaps he could find a book that would help.

Harry carried Hermione’s bags as they walked to Yumchaa. He discreetly cast a lightening spell so that he could concentrate on dodging through the crowd with an armload while listening to Hermione effuse about his impregnation as though it had already happened. After a bit, he also cast Muffliato, not wanting to find out what Muggles thought about male pregnancy.

By the time they had finished their pot of tea, Harry had devoured half a dozen muffins and Hermione had decided everything down to the color scheme for Harry and Severus’s future nursery. Harry was glad that his friend was so excited about the idea, but he couldn’t help being nervous about proposing the idea to Severus. Everything that Severus had ever said about their having a child had assumed that he would be carrying the baby. Harry was pretty sure that couldn’t be Severus’s preference, but you never know. He decided he’d better get a sex guide that afternoon and try to improve his technique before bringing up such a touchy subject.

When Hermione started making noises about getting home, Harry kissed her on the cheek and said he had some more errands to run. He avoided wizarding shops—he didn’t fancy finding a photo of himself buying a sex book on the cover of The Daily Prophet. But Foyles had a nice selection of outré books, and Harry spent a fruitful hour there. The most apt title he found was The Worst-Case Scenario Pocketbook: Sex, but he also selected some more practical guides.

12 Grimmauld Place

Harry cast a Disillusionment Charm on his Foyles bag and his stuffed cow and hoped that Severus would be down in his lab when he got home. He just knew that Severus could see through invisibility charms. He’d certainly had enough motivation to learn when he was trying to catch Harry out at Hogwarts.

As luck would have it, Severus was already finished with work by the time Harry got home. Harry tried to sneak up the stairs, but Severus called him into the kitchen to ask him about his preference for that night’s pudding. He knew very well that Severus was simply fishing—he was perfectly aware of Harry’s tastes from years of glaring down at him from the Head Table at Hogwarts.

Harry attempted to hold his hands as naturally as possible to hide the fact that he was holding illicit goods. He kept his face calm even as Severus made no attempt to hide his blatant staring. Harry wished that he could believe Severus was just staring because he was interested in his husband’s crotch, but he knew that those black eyes saw everything. He was relieved when Severus said nothing and simply reminded him that dinner was in half an hour.

Harry hadn't felt this wretched around Severus for weeks. When he thought about it later, he realized how amazing it was that they had come so far in less than two months. But at dinner that night, he felt as awkward as he had those first few days. Everything he ate just added to the ball of nerves in his belly.

Finally, dinner ended and Harry was picking at the treacle tart—his favorite. Severus sighed and laid down his fork. Harry tensed; yes, Severus did not lift his napkin to dab his lips, but that was no guarantee. When Severus cleared his throat, Harry wrung his own napkin as though it was a Lethifold on the attack.

"I am not going to take House points, Harry."

Harry flushed.

"Don’t be ridiculous. Nothing is wrong. I was being facetious when I said that I was giving you 'lessons' in intimacy, but it is not far from the truth. We are both out of our depth here; you are teaching me, as well."

"How can I teach you anything? I couldn't even give you a blow job!"

"I remember last night differently. I remember the intoxicating feeling of a gorgeous young man licking me as though I was delicious. I remember being encased in hot, slick velvet. I remember overflowing and having you rub your face in my come as though you couldn't get enough of me."

Harry's eyes were wide as he listened to Severus.

"You know that I have had lovers before. I myself bragged of my sophisticated sexual skills when I was under certain misapprehensions about...our relationship. What you must remember is that I have never been with..."

All these pauses were killing Harry. He had never seen Severus at a loss for words. His brain raced to finish the sentence: a child? a dunderhead? a spoiled brat with a saviour complex?

Finally Severus said, "...someone like you."

There was no more lingering at table that evening. Harry went up to his room early; Severus stayed on the living room couch with a book. He bussed Harry on the cheek when they parted. That was as confusing to Harry as everything else.

Harry sat on his bed and spread books he had bought that afternoon around him. Then he grabbed the cow, lay back on his pillows, and closed his eyes.

He was excited about the prospect of being pregnant. It was nothing that he had imagined before today, but since he had received his Hogwarts letter nothing had been like anything he had imagined before. Deciding to marry Severus had been a complete break from everything he had ever done. Working with Lucius had been another shock. And now Harry was hoping to carry Severus's child, which would probably turn out as big-nosed, snarky, and Slytherin as his father.

Neville was right. Harry had done what was expected of him his entire life until just under a year ago. Then he had started doing what he wanted to do. And the only one who was mad at him was Ginny—but she'd been mad at him most of the time even when they were a couple. Ron, Arthur, and Molly understood Harry's situation, and they didn’t have time to harass him anyway. Harry was pretty sure that they were going to have their fill of drama, regardless, given the attitude Ginny had shown towards her husband thus far.

Harry realized that he was curled up on his side, clutching the stuffed cow like it was his lifeline. He felt like he had all those years at the Dursleys' and at Hogwarts—clinging to whatever comfort he could find, too afraid to ask for what he wanted because he believed that it would only lead to more pain. But he wasn't that child anymore, and he didn't have to be alone. After all, he had a perfectly good husband sitting right downstairs.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mutual exploration. Finally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate to disappoint the bottom!Snape contingent. But don't give up, by the time this story ends, everyone will experience many things. Even Severus.

Previously:

Harry realized that he was curled up on his side, clutching the stuffed cow like it was his lifeline. He felt like he had all those years at the Dursleys' and at Hogwarts—clinging to whatever comfort he could find, too afraid to ask for what he wanted because he believed that it would only lead to more pain. But he wasn't that child anymore, and he didn't have to be alone. After all, he had a perfectly good husband sitting right downstairs. 

Harry pushed the cow aside and strode to the top of the stairs.

"Are you coming up, Severus?"

Severus looked pleased, but wary as he climbed the stairs. Harry tried to keep as calm as he could—he didn’t want his nerves to show. When Severus reached the top, Harry pulled him into an embrace. He buried his face in Severus’s chest and squeezed him as tightly as he could.

“While your enthusiasm is appreciated, I would rather not have to explain that we were injured whilst falling down the stairs in a hugging accident.”

Harry laughed a bit hysterically. 

“You are so funny! No one would believe how funny you are, really.”

Severus stepped away from the edge of the stairs; Harry stumbled after him without releasing his grip. He thought they must look rather like waltzing bears, and that thought made him laugh even more.

“Shhh, Harry,” Severus ran his hands up and down Harry’s back. “Did something happen to upset you while you were with Hermione today?”

“No!”

Harry finally loosened his grip on Severus enough so that they could look one another in the eye.

“Just the opposite, in fact. Looking at all the baby gear and seeing how happy she was made me realize that I’m ready for us to have our own. I’ve been a bit reluctant, as our marriage was…forced. I was worried about bringing a baby into a minefield. But when I look at all the odd pairs that the Ministry has forced into being, I realize that we’re no worse off than anyone else. I think we get along very well, all things considered. I’m not afraid anymore. Well, no more afraid than I would be at the thought of such a big change anyway…but what I mean is that I want to start trying. Now.”

As Harry was speaking, he had leaned his head closer and closer to Severus’s chest. Now Severus grasped Harry’s shoulders and pushed him away so that he could look into his face.

“Do you mean that you want to try artificial insemination?”

Harry blushed at that. He was embarrassed that he had ever expressed such an insulting prospect. 

“No. I want us to try. I want us to fuck.”

Severus was very quiet. Harry heard him swallow, but still he said nothing. Harry was beginning to worry that it was his turn to be rejected. He had been so timid and talentless until now that he was sure Severus was horrified at the thought of trying more. He closed his eyes and willed them to stop stinging. He wasn’t upset. He was just…

“I would be honored to bear your child, Harry. Aside from being…tolerable company, you sacrificed your plans and your future to save me from mine.”

“But I don’t want you to bear our child!”

Severus took a step back, his face bursting into ugly red splotches.

“I want to do it!”

Severus couldn’t seem to stop laughing.

Now they were both bright red. Harry couldn’t believe that his attempt at seduction was going so poorly. How were they ever going to get to it when he kept bollixing things up? 

“I’m tired of ‘learning’ and ‘teaching,’ and Merlin knows I don’t really want to do research about this, can’t we just…”

The rest of Harry’s sentence was lost as Severus devoured his mouth. Severus didn’t stop kissing him and Harry was beginning to feel a bit dizzy when he was scooped up in strong, wiry arms.

“Hey! I’m not a girl, you know!”

“I am very much aware that you are not a girl.”

The way that Severus’s eyes burned into his as he purred this assurance made Harry a bit dizzy again. He decided to leave his pride in the hall, and he leaned his head against Severus’s chest as he was carried to bed.

Severus laid Harry gently on the bed and stepped back as he began to unbutton his shirt. Harry lay still, not sure what to do. He watched Severus methodically undress. After a bit, he started to feel that things were a bit unfair, so he sat up and reached for the hem of his own shirt.

“Leave it.”

Harry looked up at Severus, confused.

“I want to savor every moment of taking you for the first time, my husband.”

Severus’s growl had nothing to do with the classroom, or even with detention. It was not angry. But it was so forceful that Harry began to tremble, just a little. It was unbearably exciting to be the focus of so much passion, and he had to fight to keep from ripping off his own clothes, or leaping at Severus, or doing something he hadn’t even thought of yet that would move things forward before he went mad.

Severus didn’t make him wait long. Once he was nude, he didn’t even pause long enough for Harry to get a look at him. He covered Harry’s body with his and went back to kissing. It felt incredibly erotic to be completely dressed while all that bare flesh pressed against him. Harry ran his hands down Severus’s surprisingly broad back. When he squeezed the flat arse, Severus released his mouth and began to suck at his neck. Harry gasped and bucked up and squeezed harder, which made Severus growl and bite down. 

Harry came in his pants.

He started to laugh and cry and apologize at the same time, which came out as one big hiccough. Severus released his grip on Harry’s neck and looked down at him with a smug expression on his face.

“How’s that supposed to get me up the poke?”

Severus’s smirk grew into a terrifying grin.

“That was just to relax you a bit. Have no fear, you’ll be poked plenty.”

Severus undressed Harry like he would unwrap a delicate set of glassware. Harry was shivery from his orgasm, and the way Severus was touching him seemed as though it should tickle. But although Severus was being very gentle, his hands were strong and Harry felt cherished. It was a new feeling for him, and he didn't think of this word to describe it until much later. Now he only felt very safe and very good.

Severus Accioed a flannel and wiped Harry clean with it. When he cradled Harry's balls, the contrast of the firm pressure with the soft cloth made Harry moan. Severus nudged Harry's legs apart and knelt between them. He rubbed cloth-covered fingers back and forth between the cleft of Harry's buttocks as he uncapped a bottle of lube with the other hand.

The friction of the cloth pressing ever deeper between his buttocks had caused Harry to spread his legs until they were as far apart as they could be. Severus removed his fingers and tossed the flannel aside. Before Harry could so much as twitch, Severus slid his lube-coated left index finger into that grasping heat.

The contest between the damp rubbing and the slick penetration made Harry wriggle and moan. Severus took advantage of Harry's writhing and inserted a second finger beside the first. The unaccustomed fullness made Harry freeze, and Severus used his free hand to squeeze the oil up from the base of Harry's prick to the tip.

Harry arched up into his grip, and Severus pulled his fingers almost all the way out of Harry. When Harry pushed back down, a third finger joined the two. Soon Harry found a rhythm of thrusting up into Severus's fist and pushing back down onto his fingers. Each time he pushed back, Severus spread his fingers a bit until Harry felt like he was stretched to the brink.

Just as he adjusted to the sensation, Severus pulled his hand away, leaving Harry's stretched entrance empty and cold after the warm pressure of Severus's fingers. Before Harry's moaned protest had left his lips, Severus hauled his arse up off of the bed and pushed into him. Harry yelped, but Severus stopped just after he pushed past Harry's outer ring of muscle. Severus proved at once his strength and his patience as he waited for Harry to adjust. He slung one of Harry's legs over his shoulder and used his free hand to squeeze and rub Harry's prick.

Harry once again thrust up into Severus's grasp, took a deep breath, then pushed himself down onto his cock. He moved his hips up and down, each time taking in a bit more of his husband's length. By the time he felt Severus's balls pressing against his arse, both of his legs were pulled over Severus's shoulders. Severus let go of Harry's prick and began to press the globes of Harry's buttocks tight around his length on every inward thrust as he pushed harder and faster.

Harry's shoulders almost left the bed as he was pounded and lifted and squeezed. He thought he might pass out, but he came instead. As he jerked and pulsed Severus pushed farther than ever inside him and stilled as he let out a deep groan. 

Harry literally didn't know which end was up, but he didn't care. He had melted and was content to be gathered up and nestled in beside the warm body of his husband. As the covers were pulled up around him, he drifted off to sleep.

Coincidentally, the very next morning The Daily Prophet held some actual news. A large number of witches and wizards in Wales had refused their Ministry-ordered bondings. They had all been summarily sent to Azkaban. Harry’s porridge stuck in his throat. He read the article again, considered interrupting Severus in his lab, immediately rejected that impulse, thought about firecalling Ron and Hermione, then realized they were already at work.

After a frantic morning of pacing and panicking and feeling guiltier than he had in years, Harry began to be able to consider things. 

He had resisted the Ministry, but not in a way that would set an example for anyone else. Sure, there had been stories and rumors about his use of the Ministry’s edict against them. But his situation was unique. The average citizen couldn’t exactly go rescuing wrongfully imprisoned former Death Eaters from Azkaban by insisting on bonding with them. For one thing, there was really only the one, and Harry already had married him.

Maybe he should have refused to bond with anyone at all and been sent to Azkaban. Surely there would have been an outcry at the imprisonment of the Saviour. But then he and Severus would both be in Azkaban, and they wouldn’t have found one another, and they wouldn’t have been able to do anything about the unfair law except be the subject of gossip and grumbling.

By lunchtime he had determined that he and Severus would use their freedom to…he wasn’t really sure about that part. But he was sure that Severus would have a brilliant idea. 

Harry didn't even wait until lunch was on the table before he began his passionate speech. Severus calmly moved his place setting aside and rested his clasped hands on the table as he listened.

After following his dramatic description of the Welsh protectors with an even more emotional summation of his feelings of guilt, Harry was a bit breathless and rather hot. He stopped gesticulating and took a large gulp of pumpkin juice. 

Severus was silent for a few minutes. Harry well nigh chewed on his knuckles to stop himself from talking. He knew that Severus would not respond well to having his thoughts interrupted.

"We will do nothing."

Harry couldn't believe it. He had thought that Severus was better than that. He had worked so hard to see his husband's good points that he had almost forgotten that he was actually a selfish, nasty bastard.

He opened his mouth to express this opinion.

Severus raised a hand.

"Please, Harry. Hear me out. Anything that you do will draw attention to you. I know that you are accustomed to being the object of everyone's attention, whether it be baseless adoration or misguided vilification. What do you think would happen if you took action on this issue right now?"

"I don't want to be the center of attention..."

"So I have learned. But that does not change the fact that you will be. Everyone will forget about the protesters and will resume speculating about you, about me, about Ginevra, and about our marriage. Not only will that be unpleasant for all of us, it will mean that the protesters sacrificed their freedom for nothing."

"But if we speak out about it, people will listen!"

"Do you know what they will hear?"

Harry looked at Severus, confused. 

"They will hear Harry Potter saying, 'Relax. Go about your business. I will save you again.'"

Harry was silent for a long time. Then he chuckled darkly and shook his head.

"You still know how to make me feel like an idiot."

Severus smiled as he stood up and walked to where Harry sat. He bent down to embrace his husband and whispered into his ear, "Nobody's perfect."


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry is reminded that outside of Grimmauld Place, the world is still turning.

Harry would have protested more—taking Severus’s perfectly valid point into account, of course—if he hadn’t been distracted by Severus’s tongue. That tongue teased the edge of Harry’s ear and then moved down, causing him to shiver and swoon a bit. Just enough to press his chest against Severus's. He longed to undo that endless row of buttons.

Before Harry could pull himself together enough to try, Severus once again had disappeared down into his lab.

He really should have known that I wouldn’t leave it alone, Harry thought as he wrote a note explaining that he had been called away to help Neville in the shoppe. So he can’t really get upset when I don’t.

He was aware that his logic was shaky at best, but he squashed that thought as he flooed to Diagon Alley.

  
Harry did pitch in at Neville’s shoppe. That much, at least, was true. Neville believed Harry’s claim that he was stir crazy and needed to get out of the house for a bit, and there was always work to do in the stockroom.

When Neville joined Harry in the back for elevenses, Harry explained the real reason for his sudden visit.

Neville winced as Harry expressed his outrage and his desire to help the protestors.

“I just don’t see how we can sit back and do nothing. We defeated Voldemort! Surely we can take on the Minister of Magic.”

“Um…”

Harry was incensed at what he took to be Neville’s unwillingness to act.

“I can’t believe this! First Severus says that I can’t do anything because everyone will give up if I do, and now you can’t even bear to listen to me talk about it!”

“The thing is, Harry…” Neville had a sheepish expression that Harry hadn’t seen for years. “Severus is right.”

Harry’s eyes widened.

“Severus?”

Neville winced some more.

Harry’s thoughts were racing.

His eyes narrowed.

“When did you start calling my husband ‘Severus,’ Neville?” he said slowly.

Neville started sputtering.

“Are you going behind my back?”

Neville shook his head and backed away from Harry.

Harry’s mouth quirked and he continued in a joking tone, “No worries—I’m sure Colin keeps you on a firm leash.”

Neville didn’t laugh.

  
When Harry returned to Grimmauld Place, he wasn’t laughing either.

Harry was fairly vibrating when Severus joined him at the table that evening. Severus sat down very carefully and looked at him, stone-faced. Neither spoke for several moments.

Finally Severus broke the silence.

“How is Mr. Longbottom?”

“Don’t you mean Neville?”

Severus’s cheek twitched, but he took a careful sip of his bisque before he answered.

“I see that Mr. Longbottom is as circumspect as ever.”

“I asked him to start a resistance movement with me. Imagine my surprise when he admitted that my group had been working without me. For months! And that you knew.”

Severus interrupted—something that he had not done in quite a while. His voice was that of the classroom.

“Whose group?”

Harry swallowed his next words and glared at Severus.

Severus sighed.

“I am simply pointing out that Dumbledore’s Army and I have a complicated history together—only some of which you know. Remember, I was Headmaster of Hogwarts while you were searching for Horcruxes.”

“So I suppose it’s fine to leave me out, then. After all, I was jaunting about the country enjoying a lengthy holiday while you lot suffered…”

“Harry. I understand that you are upset, but I will not be spoken to in this manner.”

“Then you won’t be spoken to.”

Some part of Harry knew that he was acting like a petulant child, but he decided not to care as he stomped up the stairs.

Harry wished he had grabbed some food before he had retreated into his room. Kreacher hadn’t brought him anything. Now he was starving as well as angry.

It was a long night.

  
Harry woke in a pool of sweat long after Severus had repaired to his lab for the day.

Harry didn’t care. He didn’t want to talk to him anyway. He needed to talk to someone who would be honest with him. And Severus had been firmly ticked off that list.

Hermione was at home; she was on maternity leave from her future job. She had been in high demand due to her top marks on the BVC, her knowledge of both Wizarding and Muggle worlds, not to mention her status as a war hero. Law firms had queued to hire her; each offering a more lavish maternity leave package than the rest.

Hermione had, of course, taken a job with the most powerful law firm in Wizarding Britain. And she stipulated she would only do pro bono work, and she would be appointed as the first wizarding liaison to LawWorks, the charity organization that organized free legal representation to Muggles who couldn’t afford legal aid.

For now, Hermione was resting at home. Harry didn’t even hesitate; he flooed to her and Ron’s flat directly after he took a shower.

  
Hermione didn’t look very happy to see him.

Now Harry was the one who was ruing Neville’s open-hearted—and open-mouthed—nature. Hermione clearly knew why Harry had so unceremoniously burst into her kitchen.

“Hermione, I don’t know what the hell is going on here. Everyone I know and love, everyone who is supposed to love me, is lying to me.”

“I didn’t lie. Just as I told you yesterday, I am going to fight the mandate as hard as I can.”

“You sound like a bloody barrister.”

“I am a bloody barrister.”

“You know that’s not what I meant. Gah! Why can’t anyone understand why I’m so angry?”

“We understand, Harry. We just don’t agree with you.”

Harry froze, tears beginning to well up in his eyes.

Hermione stood up and approached him. She laid a hand on his arm.

“We love you, but we don’t always agree with you. And we don’t tell you everything.”

Harry knew this. He remembered when he woke to find her and Ron’s hands clasped; when Ron had left them in the woods; and when Hermione had punched Harry in the face after he had chosen to die. He knew he still loved them, and they loved him.

But he had never been completely shut out before. Not to this extent.

He felt like he was choking, and he almost, almost let a tear drop.

“Doesn’t anyone trust me anymore?” His voice was shaky.

Hermione looked like her heart would break.

“Harry—please sit down. Let’s have some tea and talk about this.”

Harry knew when he was beaten. He sat.

When Hermione pointed out that now Harry had something to lose, it startled him.

In his rush to lead the charge, he had forgotten Severus was completely dependent on him. If the Ministry thought Harry was stepping out of line, Severus would be back in Azkaban before the next day's Daily Prophet was printed.

Even without his role as a husband to consider, there really was nothing Harry could actually do.

Any act that he could perform for Dumbledore’s Army would be tainted by his inability to remain anonymous. His hated fame couldn’t even be used to help the cause, because he would only destroy the others’ efforts by diverting everyone’s attention to the Boy Who Lived.

He was well and truly trapped.

That didn’t mean he was happy about being left in the dark.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry talks to Severus about trust.

Harry was famished by the time he returned home for lunch. Tea and biscuits did not make up for a missed supper and breakfast. He glanced up when Severus joined him at the table, but he didn’t stop inhaling his toastie.

Severus began to eat in a much more sedate manner than Harry. He had made his way through half of his Cobb salad before Harry spoke.

“Our first morning together in our home you asked me to show some respect for you.”

Severus put down his fork, but he did not look up.

“I want the same. I understand that my friends don’t have to tell me everything. But you are my husband now. If you hide things from me, important things, it shows a lack of trust. And I can't live with someone who doesn’t respect me enough to trust me.”

Severus raised his eyes. 

Harry expected to see a glare, accompanied by a sneer, followed by a diatribe spiced with choice phrases about Harry’s parentage and/or immaturity, finished off with a dissertation on how Harry was crap in bed.

“You’re right.”

Harry was gobsmacked. Severus paused for what felt like hours. Harry didn't make a sound; he knew that if Severus was interrupted this conversation would be over.

"I have never trusted anyone, Harry. I was Dumbledore's man, but as you certainly know, he didn't hesitate to..."

Harry nodded; it was clear that Severus wasn't going to finish that particular sentence.

"The thought of divulging how I spend my days--the details of my life--is unimaginable to me. I have never even bothered to think about it as a possibility. But I do see your point."

"I'm not used to talking about my life either."

Severus raised an eyebrow.

Harry snorted.

"I know you know that all the press about me is bloody ridiculous. You might think that 'The Golden Trio' shared everything. But I never talked about my life with the Dursleys to Ron and Hermione; I never talked about it to anyone. And just imagine trying to tell your best friend that you fancy his baby sister! Not to mention how jealous I was when I figured out that Ron and Hermione... Well, I could go on. But the truth is that I'm used to hiding things."

"Apparently we both need additional lessons."

Harry took Severus's joke as a sign that he had had enough of the current topic. Harry reckoned they both had a lot to think about. He smiled, and they ate the rest of their meal in a silence that was close to comfortable.

That evening Harry patted the couch beside him when Severus moved towards his usual chair. Severus smirked at the gesture, but he did sit down next to him. Harry took this as a victory.

 

Harry didn't want to talk anymore, and he was sure that Severus didn't want to either. But he wanted to keep their detente going. He turned to face Severus and smoothed his hand down the long fall of black hair. Severus's eyes grew hooded, but he remained still.

Harry pushed back the lanky strands and cupped Severus's bony jaw in his palm. He held Severus in place and leaned towards him. 

When their lips were millimeters from one another, Harry whispered, "I want all of you."

Severus made a low groan and crushed Harry's mouth beneath his.

Harry was in no mood for acquiescing. He wasn't a child and he wasn't a student and he wasn't going to be treated as one anymore. Harry Potter was going to take control.

He pushed against Severus's shoulders, and their lips parted as Severus hit the back of the couch. Harry swung a leg up and straddled Severus's lap, and he leaned down to resume the kiss. 

Harry felt almost savage; he was pressing down as hard as he could with his hands and his arse and his mouth.

Severus growled when Harry's teeth nicked his lower lip. 

Harry moaned as his trousers became painfully tight, but he didn't want to stop. Severus whispered a spell, and their clothes evaporated.

He might be a bastard, Harry thought, but he's brilliant.

What he said out loud was, "I want you in me. Now."

Severus didn't hesitate. He grasped Harry's buttocks and pulled him up against his chest. Harry grabbed the back of the couch to avoid being tossed arse over teakettle. 

He gasped and arched his back as slick fingers pressed and turned inside him.

Harry pushed back against Severus's hands. Severus leaned forward and nibbled at the bottom edge of Harry's ribs. Harry bucked up and lost the fullness in his arse as he left Severus's fingers behind. 

He didn't like that at all, so he tried to smash himself down on Severus's cock.

Severus immediately hoisted him back up.

"That is simply impossible. You will need to turn around, or I will need to lie down."

There was no way Harry was going to turn around. He wanted to set the pace, and he wanted to see Severus watching him set the pace.

Harry rose up onto his knees and grabbed his wand from the table beside the couch. He transfigured the couch flat and shoved Severus down. 

This time when Harry lowered himself, he reached beneath him and held Severus's prick steady. He sank down until just the head of Severus's cock was inside him. Then he stopped.

"Do you want me?"

Severus clutched at the couch cushions so hard that his knuckles were white.

"You know I do."

He was clearly only holding himself back by a thread. Harry didn't care.

He sank down another inch.

"I want to hear you say it."

He pushed down briefly, then pulled up. He squeezed Severus's cock in his fist.

Severus pressed his eyes shut and ground out, "I want you. I always want you."

Harry placed his hands on Severus's shoulders and bent down to kiss his eyelids as he sank down slowly until his arse pressed against Severus's balls.

We can keep working on getting him to say it while he's actually looking at me, Harry thought, as he rose up and sank down again.

Harry began to rock.

 

After this satisfying encounter, Harry was knackered. He didn’t join Severus for supper, but went up to his room to be alone with his thoughts. He reclined on his bed, hugged his stuffed cow, and tried to think of what he could do to fight against the Ministry of Magic. His friends were right. The Ministry's constant depiction of him as a vigilante had increased his notoriety, but it had also severely limited his influence. 

The election of Stamford Jorkins, the long-time Ministry spokesperson and the true author of the Ministry’s Marriage Mandate, to the position of Minister of Magic had been terrible for the Wizarding World. He had convinced a majority of voters that his ability to explain away the Ministry's constantly changing goals and edicts over the past few decades was a sign of his neutrality. Harry felt Jorkins' inability—and lack of desire—to exhibit any loyalty or consistency was a manifestation of the man's utter lack of integrity.

Jorkins had been convinced from the start that Harry was lying about his defeat of Voldemort. He openly mocked Harry's claims when the two spoke privately. In public, the Minister did not contradict the popularly accepted events of the battle. His portrayal of Harry as unbalanced were actually helped by the stories of The Boy Who Lived's return from the dead. Even wizards felt that kind of thing just was not Quidditch.

Ron had tried to explain Jorkins' motivations and strategy to Harry. Harry knew that Ron's understanding of politics and strategy--not to mention his position in the Ministry--qualified Ron to understand the reality of the situation. But Harry didn't care what Jorkins was about. He would always be Harry's personal bugbear.

Perhaps that's why they didn't invite me back into Dumbledore's Army, he thought. 

Irritated at his own show of common sense, Harry stopped thinking, rolled onto his side, and fell asleep.

When Harry woke, he was confused. It was dark, and he had clearly slept through supper, and he rather felt he was trapped in a bog. 

He had not actually gotten around to refurnishing Grimmauld Place since Kreacher's massive purge. Severus had gotten the best bed, naturally. Harry had been left with one that was serviceable for one, but wasn't really up to the weight of two. Even two who were as skinny as Severus and Harry.

Severus had apparently decided to join him while he slept, and gravity had had its way with them. Presently, Harry was almost submerged in the ancient mattress. Harry was laying on his stomach, and he was pinned into the saggy center of the bed by the weight of Severus's head on his shoulder and back.

Harry would have shaken Severus off if his left arm hadn't been completely numb. Severus might be a thin, pointy git, but his head seemed to be made of solid rock. Harry's inability to move gave him time to wake up more completely and allowed him to realize the truly exceptional nature of his predicament. 

Yes, he was in danger of losing his arm or at least of suffering permanent nerve damage. But that wasn't the thing. 

The thing was: Harry was in bed with his husband.

As he strained to reach his wand on the nightstand, Harry pondered the vagaries of fate. He had survived the Dursleys. He had conquered Voldemort. He had been reviled by the Ministry and hounded by the press for half his life, but he had never surrendered.

And here he lay, brought down by Severus Snape. 

Harry had a moment to sigh his relief as he cast a featherweight charm on Severus and shoved him over a bit, freeing his arm. Then the pins and needles started.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry goes shopping. Then he gets angry again. Along the way he is reminded that not _all_ Slytherins are evil. Well, not all of the time, anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Severus quotes Mr. Darcy from _Pride and Prejudice_.

When Harry found Severus lingering over breakfast, he was surprised. He thought that Severus would have high-tailed it down to his lab after braving the intimacy of Harry’s bed.

Severus looked up when Harry entered the room; his face was carefully blank.

Harry sat down with a huff and smiled when a plateful of eggs and streaky rashers appeared before him. Kreacher hardly ever Apparated their food; he must have sensed that his masters needed a bit of privacy.

As Harry bit into a particularly nice piece of bacon, he realized that Severus was still staring at him. 

He gulped the bacon down and said, “I must say, my back is a bit stiff after last night.”

“Stiff” seemed to be the operative word, as Severus’s spine snapped impossibly straight, and his neutral expression gave way to a sneer.

“I am sorry that my presence in your bed was painful for you.”

Harry felt like beating his head against the table. Would a marriage to someone who was so paranoid ever get easier?

“I loved finding you in my bed when I woke up, but I do think that we should get a new mattress.”

Severus relaxed infinitesimally and nodded his acquiescence. 

“I have no preferences as to furniture or decoration. Although…I think we may need a sturdier couch.”

Harry blushed at the reminder of his rather extreme fondness for the couch and tried to hide his embarrassment by taking a huge bite of his eggs. It was not the cleverest plan; he thought he might choke to death. As he manfully swallowed down his giant mouthful, his head was spinning. 

Severus had said “we.”

 

When Severus finally did go down to the basement, Harry pondered just how he was going to pick out furniture. Ron would be no use, Hermione was a bit busy, and he was still angry with Neville. It had been too long since he had seen Luna, but he did want to end up with actual furniture, and that wasn’t necessarily going to happen if she came along.

He had just decided to make a date to see Luna but brave furniture shopping on his own, when the Floo roared to life.

Harry was very surprised to see Narcissa Malfoy’s head in his fireplace, but he smiled politely.

“I heard that you needed some help with decorating.”

Harry goggled. How did Severus talk to so many people so quickly? Harry was almost always within hearing distance of the main Floo, and he didn’t think that Severus had any other means of communication with the outside world. 

There must be an infinite number of things he didn’t know about his husband.

Narcissa responded to Harry’s lack of response by offering to come through so they could converse more easily. He had the wits to step back and even remembered to offer her his hand as she stepped down from the fireplace.

She repeated her offer of help, and Harry panicked a bit as he pictured the chilly interior of Malfoy Manor. 

“I really do appreciate your offer. But I’m not sure that Grimmauld Place is quite as…formal as the Manor.”

Narcissa deadpanned, “Rest assured, I have no intention of making your home into a McMansion.”

Harry couldn’t help it; Narcissa’s use of the Muggle term made him laugh until his eyes watered. Narcissa looked rather smug as he struggled to catch his breath. Even after all the time he’d spent working with the Malfoys over the past year, he still forgot how dry Narcissa’s sense of humor could be. 

When Harry straightened up again, he gallantly offered Narcissa his arm. He didn’t bother leaving a note for Severus—who had clearly engineered the entire plan. 

He doesn’t care about décor, my arse, Harry thought as they Apparated away.

 

Harry knew the sight that greeted him was the result of vast sums of Galleons and months of planning. 

They were in a showroom the size of the Great Hall at Hogwarts. Around them stretched row after row of wooden furniture. Some was ornately carved; some was quite plain. It was all a warm honey color—oak and maple, Harry reckoned. The fabrics on the upholstered pieces were sumptuous and jewel-toned. Ruby red, forest green, peacock blue, purple, and gold shone in velvet, damask, and silk.

Harry wasn’t sure how he felt about this situation. He knew that Severus and Narcissa had maneuvered him into this position. There was nothing spur-of-the-moment about it. They had clearly been waiting for him to raise the topic of new furniture so that they could spring this on him.

Harry was tired of being a pawn. He was sick of decisions being made for him. 

But he absolutely loved the furniture.

“Severus gave me free rein to choose the style I thought would suit both of you. I went with a mix of Shaker and Gothic Tudor. They share the same color scheme, and the ornateness of the Gothic style is set off by the simplicity of the Shaker pieces.”

Harry knew what it cost Narcissa to deign to explain her actions. Her next statement shocked him to the core.

“I hope you like them.”

Harry left off staring at the furniture and turned to stare at Narcissa. She stood calmly and met his eyes with a half-smile.

Harry thought fast. It wasn’t manipulation when Hermione served his favorite meal or bought him a jumper that matched his eyes. Maybe the Slytherin way of showing one cared included home decorating. And it wasn’t as though Narcissa—or Severus—had gone ahead and ordered specific furniture. There was a huge selection spread before him.

He smiled at Narcissa.

“They’re wonderful. Would you help me decide which pieces will suit?”

 

Picking out furniture for an entire house was exhausting, even after Narcissa’s careful pre-selection. Harry was too tired to feel awkward when she steered him into Palm Court at The Langham for cream tea. 

After working his way through a plate of finger sandwiches and a chocolate mini cake, it occurred to him that something was odd about their surroundings. He stopped eating when he realized he was in a Muggle hotel. With Narcissa Malfoy. 

True, the black wrought iron and iceberg blue upholstery set off her coloring perfectly. And without even trying he was wearing clothes that were at least acceptable in such posh surroundings. But a year ago he couldn’t have imagined either of them in such a place.

He decided to suss out why Narcissa was being so open to Muggle society today. First she had made the McMansion joke and now they were having tea in a Muggle hotel.

“Do you come here often?”

Harry cringed the moment the words came out of his mouth. Now he sounded like he was spouting cheap pick-up lines. He was very glad that Lucius wasn’t there.

Narcissa ignored his gaffe.

“Their claim to have invented afternoon tea is pure tosh. However, they have rather perfected the custom over the past 160 years or so. It’s certainly no Madame Puddifoot’s.”

Harry laughed. He hadn’t laughed so much in…well, in years. This realization sobered him, and after tea was finished, his farewell was very vague. Narcissa bid him adieu and didn’t mention his abstracted manner.

 

Severus mentioned it first. 

After admiring the new furniture—which had been delivered in the time it had taken Harry and Narcissa to take tea—he sat and pulled Harry down beside him.

Harry was suddenly very eager to explore the possibilities of the new couch, but Severus had a serious look on his face. It was not his usual serious look; it was at least a few degrees more serious.

“I need to talk to you about Ginevra.”

Harry could feel his brow wrinkling. He tried to remain calm, but the combination of Severus and Ginny was inevitably explosive.

“She is unhappy in her marriage.”

Harry was speechless. This was the last thing he had expected to hear, from Severus or from anybody else. He had seen that Ginny didn’t seem to be settling into her new role at first, but he had assumed that things had settled down. And…

“Why did she talk to you about it?”

Severus rolled his eyes. 

“That would certainly have been a lovely conversation. I can almost hear her dulcet tones now: ‘You great greasy bat, you ruined my life by taking Harry Potter away from me!’ As I’m sure you can see, my face remains uninjured. I assume you could surmise from this that I have dnot seen Mrs. Finch-Fletchley in person.”

Harry was barely keeping himself under control. 

“I simply don’t understand why you know this. And why you are telling me,” he managed to force out.

“Hermione spoke to me.”

Now Harry was furious.

“So now you’re Hermione’s confidant? What, are you two sitting around gossiping while you send me off with Narcissa bloody Malfoy?”

Severus’s nostrils flared. He glared at Harry then closed his eyes in a deliberate fashion. Harry could almost hear him counting to ten.

“I shall not mention your insulting tone towards Mrs. Granger-Weasley and Mrs. Malfoy, not to them or to anyone else. I will attempt to ignore your disrespectful manner. However, this behavior is not encouraging me to be open with you. If you wish me to share my…the details of my life with you, this is not the way to do it.”

Harry was still angry, but he bit his tongue as he realized that Severus was right. Again. Dammit.

He took a few deep breaths as he thought about what to say next. Severus was looking at him with a new expression. It wasn’t the carefully crafted mask that he wore in public or when trying to hide his feelings, and it wasn’t a sneer or a smirk or a scowl.

Severus looked concerned. Harry almost couldn’t believe it, but it was true. He looked like he might give a damn about something. Harry wasn’t sure if Severus was concerned about Hermione or Ginny or maybe even Harry.

He shook his head a little and began again in a calmer tone.

“I apologize for jumping to conclusions.” He managed to keep the “again” to himself. “I know that Hermione would not have mentioned anything unless the situation was serious. She’s not one to spill others’ secrets. But I still don’t understand why she would speak to you, of all people.”

Severus’s expression edged towards supercilious, and Harry hastened on before things went even more pear-shaped.

“Instead of talking to Ron. Or to me. Or to…Luna?”

Harry couldn’t keep the final question mark silent. He was realizing, even as he spoke, how unlikely it would be for Hermione to discuss the details of Ginny’s marriage with Ginny’s brother, ex-lover, or ex-classmate/comrade-in-arms.

“I see from your expression that you have realized the unlikelihood of Hermione’s turning to her husband or to you with this issue. I am also very well-acquainted with her ability to keep a secret.”

Harry thought of Bloomslang skin and bit his lips.

Severus’s eyes narrowed, but he continued, “I did not simply mean that Ginevra is not enjoying her married state. I have little interest in her emotions.”

Harry almost rolled his eyes at that, but he restrained himself.

“I meant that she is unlucky in her marriage.”

Harry absolutely hated it when Severus made him feel like an idiot. He failed to see why Ginny’s luck, or lack of it, would be any more important to Severus than her emotions. He decided that discretion was the better part of valor and waited for Severus to continue. Perhaps he could get some sort of clue what he was talking about if he paid attention to the context.

Severus didn’t wait very long for an answer from Harry. He barely even sighed as he went on, “I realize that I am no longer strictly responsible for my Slytherin charges. But when one of them is plotting to ruin the life of one of your family members, I find that I am unable to stand aside and do nothing.”

Harry remembered Severus’s words when they had met Ginny at Ron and Hermione’s flat after their honeymoon. He had said that Hermione and Ron were Harry’s family, and that while “families are never perfect, they are still precious.”

At least Harry had thought Severus was only referring to Ron and Hermione. It now occurred to him that by the same logic, Ginny was part of his family, too.

Harry didn’t know what to say, so he simply said, “Thank you.”

Severus did smirk, then, and he took on the air of one repeating lines as he said, “That the wish of giving happiness to you might add force to the other inducements which led me on, I shall not attempt to deny.''

Harry brushed past his confusion about the source of what was obviously a quotation and practically rubbed his hands with glee as he asked, “What has Draco done now?”


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ginny averts a dead end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm afraid it's going to get worse for poor Harry before it gets better. 
> 
> It will get better.

"What did Draco do this time?"  
  
Severus shook his head.  
  
"Honestly, Harry. I don't know whether to laugh or cry."  
  
Harry felt a sudden stab of regret. He shouldn't be so flippant about Draco. Yes, he was a prat, but Severus clearly felt responsible for him.  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
He tried for a conciliatory expression.  
  
"For what, exactly, are you sorry?"  
  
"For forgetting your feelings. I hadn't thought about the fact that Draco is...is part of _your_ family."  
  
 _There_ , Harry thought. _That was mature. I'm getting the hang of this husband thing_.  
  
"Precisely."  
  
The pause was not a comfortable one. Harry made his expression even more contrite, hoping it would make up for whatever mistake he'd made now.  
  
Severus snorted.  
  
"Oh, stop looking like a crup that's pissed the carpet. Of course you would assume that Draco was involved. You two are worse than brothers. I am, however, rather offended that you would imagine for a moment that I would ever allow Draco to act against a member of your family."  
  
It was Harry's turn to snort.  
  
Severus closed his eyes and shook his head again.  
  
"Will we ever be able to talk to one another without constantly being tripped up by the past?"  
  
Harry grasped Severus's hands and smiled.  
  
"We will learn. Now, let's begin again. If it's not Draco causing the problem, which slimy little snake is it?"  
  
The cuff he received on his ear was _almost_ gentle.  
  
  
Harry had already known that Pansy Parkinson had no sense of loyalty. She’d proven time and time again that she valued her comfort over anyone else’s safety. And if even Severus was concerned about what the Parkinson family might do to help her get Justin Finch-Fletchley for herself, it was definitely time to worry.  
  
Harry was mystified as to why the bastard wouldn’t want to keep Ginny. Ginny was gorgeous, her brother had been adopted as the poster boy of the war by the Ministry--all-in-all her family was on their way up in the world. And they were inarguably on the "right" side. No matter what his opinion of Justin, Harry refused to believe that the spoiled git could really want to let go of all of that.  
  
Severus offered this explanation: “Ginevra and Finch-Fletchley are not compatible because she wanted to fly free, returning to a stable home base only when it suited her. Finch-Fletchley thought he wanted a free-spirited wife. However, because she _is_ free-spirited, Ginevra resists his desire to control her. As well she should.”  
  
Harry blinked at Severus’s characterization of Ginny and his apparent sympathy for her.  
  
He supposed it made sense that a successful spy would need to be skilled at interpreting people’s motivations. But he was touched by Severus’s sensitivity towards someone who had never said a kind word about him. He knew for a fact that Severus would never say a kind word _to_ Ginny.  
  
Severus saw Harry’s face soften.  
  
“Yes, it’s lovely that Ginevra has the strength of character to resist being domesticated. Such stubbornness will do her no favors in the current climate, however.”  
  
“What would happen if they divorced?”  
  
“There is no divorce under the Ministry mandate. Only annulment or death can break a marriage.”  
  
Harry paled at that. He knew to whom the Parkinsons would apply first for an undetectable poison. Perhaps they already had. And if...when Severus refused, they would simply get it from someone else.  
  
“What would allow a marriage to be annulled?”  
  
“Impotence or barrenness.”  
  
“That’s it?”  
  
“Do not forget the purpose of this mandate. It is not to create happy unions, only to create children with ‘approved’ bloodlines.”  
  
Harry clenched his teeth. The Ministry might not be as overt in its reign of terror as Voldemort had been, but their tactics were just as cruel.  
  
“Can we make Justin impotent?”  
  
“Unfortunately, all of the curses, hexes, and potions that achieve such an effect are carefully catalogued and controlled.”  
  
 _Of course they are_ , Harry thought. _Those in power always cared about their pricks above everything else._  
  
He realized that he was hearing an echo of a statement Hermione had made at some point. Of course, she hadn’t used the word “pricks.”  
  
“However, the potions used to induce barrenness have not been monitored as closely.”  
  
Harry nodded. Again, he could almost hear Hermione as she ranted against the sexist nature of Wizarding law and culture.  
  
“Wait, what? You want to make Ginny barren?”  
  
“I do not _want_ to do anything to Ginevra. She has asked me, through Hermione, to do so.”  
  
  
It was all Harry could do not to go kill Justin himself. He and Ginny had had their differences, obviously, but he still loved her. As a sister, if nothing else. What right did anyone have to cut off her options like that?  
  
Ginny had not made it a secret that she didn't want to have children early like her mother. But Harry knew that she wanted a family. Maybe Severus was right, and she would never really settle down. But she deserved to find a husband who would hold down the fort for her, who would welcome her back to the nest after her adventures.  
  
Harry knew that Severus was right about him. He was a homebody by nature, and he had thought he could make a home for Ginny and their future children. But in just a few months with Severus, he had realized that what he actually wanted was someone to be there for him. He wanted someone to cling to when he felt overwhelmed. He wanted to create a warm and comforting home for Severus, and he could, but he needed a solid mooring. And Severus was a rock. That was bad news when he was working against you, but for those on his side it was amazing.  
  
If Severus did this... Harry wouldn't blame him. How could he? He knew that Severus would do whatever had to be done. He and Harry were the same. If Harry ever doubted it—if he ever felt superior to Severus because Severus had killed while Harry had died—he only needed to remember scooping that poison into Dumbledore's mouth.  
  
But would the others understand? Could Ron keep it a secret? Did Ron even know? If Ron told his family what Severus had done, the rift between Harry and the Weasley family would be complete and permanent.  
  
Most of Ginny's brothers were still being ridiculous about Harry's "jilting" their baby sister, but Harry knew that would pass. Weasleys were hot-tempered and rash. They were also unwaveringly loyal. In short, they were perfect Gryffindors. But they always saw reason in the end.  
  
This, however, would be unforgivable. Harry remembered the power and fury that Molly had summoned to kill Bellatrix Lestrange. She was merciless in her defense of her children. She wouldn't hesitate to kill Severus if she ever found out that he had damaged her daughter in such a way, whether Ginny had asked him or not.  
  
Surely Hermione knew that telling Ron would be too risky. And she certainly could act on her own. When Ron had left them in the woods, Hermione had stayed. She had obliviated her parents and sent them to the other side of the earth, just so she could risk everything in a war she had chosen to fight. She, too, always did what had to be done.  
  
Hermione would know that Harry would not judge her for doing what Ginny asked. But Severus seemed to fear that Harry would blame him. A few months ago, the notion that Severus might be concerned in any way about Harry's opinion would have been laughable. But now Harry knew better. No one living would notice the tensing of the skin around Severus’s eyes...no one but Harry.  
  
  
The realization that one of his nominal allies would be willing to murder Ginny had destroyed any lingering impressions that things were normal that Harry had been holding. Justin might be leaving the dirty work to the Slytherins, but it was obvious that he was not simply complicit; he was one of the plan's primary architects. Pansy would never have gone so far if Justin hadn’t been in on it. No Slytherin would take such a huge risk without a guaranteed payoff. Murder was still murder, even under the new Ministry leadership.  
  
Or was it? Maybe they were on the brink of Ministry-sponsored concentration camps for the voluntarily or involuntarily childless. Harry had learned at least enough Muggle history to be able to imagine that without much effort.  
  
Harry crawled onto Severus’s lap, trying to wipe the reality of their brave new world out of his mind, if only for a little while.  
  
Severus stood up, but Harry didn’t let go. Severus let out a loud grunt, but Harry just wrapped his legs around his waist.  
  
“Very well. _Mobilicorpus_.”  
  
The spell made Harry feel as though he would float away. He wrapped himself even more tightly around Severus as they ascended the stairs. Severus turned towards Harry’s room, but Harry shook his head.  
  
“I want you to take me to your bed. I want you to want me there.”  
  
Severus turned his head to whisper into Harry’s ear, “I will leave no room for doubt.”


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Severus are put on a new path.

When they reached Severus’s bed, he didn’t say “ _Finite_.”   
  
Harry floated above the mattress. Harry felt like he was dreaming. Severus could control him with the mere touch of a finger; he could arrange Harry any way he liked. Harry floated above the bed, eyes closed, as Severus turned his body this way and that. It was strange and exciting to feel Severus’s hands and mouth on him without the restraint of gravity. Harry wriggled like a fish in the air as the light touches tickled him almost beyond bearing.  
  
“Please…” Harry whined. “Please drop me.”  
  
“Never,” Severus purred.   
  
But even as Severus’s voice—like dark wine poured through gravel—sent shivers through Harry, he was gently lowered onto the bed. His arse barely touched the coverlet, Severus immediately lifted it and shoved a firm, velvet-covered cushion underneath.  
  
Harry let his shoulders sink into the mattress. Severus spread Harry’s thighs apart and knelt between them. He leaned down, bracing himself with his arms, and licked at Harry’s. He was holding himself up so that only their mouths touched.  
  
Harry moaned and thrust upwards, growing more and more frustrated as Severus teased him by staying just out of reach. Severus tethered him with a hand—but he wanted to feel a more substantial weight. He couldn’t take it anymore; he grabbed his own cock and began to pull at it.  
  
Severus growled and pulled Harry’s hands away, pinning them to the bed next to Harry’s hips.   
  
“Argh! Are you trying to kill me?”  
  
“In a way,” Severus smirked.  
  
Harry huffed in exasperation, and he offered no resistance when Severus used his shoulders to spread his thighs wider. Severus shoved Harry’s hands over his head and pinned them with a sticking charm. Then he used a cushion to raise Harry’s arse even higher. He arched his back as he tried to shove his prick against something. It did its part, straining upward and glistening as it ached to be touched.  
  
Harry lifted his head and saw Severus bending down, and he thought his heart would explode from excitement. But Severus bypassed Harry’s straining prick and instead began to lick Harry’s arsehole.  
  
Harry jolted, and he instinctively pulled his thighs together. Severus pushed back harder. Harry bucked and strained, not sure whether to pull away or push himself closer to the wicked tongue that was—unbelievably, electrifyingly—pressing into him.  
  
  
Once Harry stopped struggling, Severus’s fingers joined his mouth in its work on Harry’s arse. He used two fingers to open Harry as he worked his tongue around them. This was more familiar, though the tongue slithering around the edges of his hole added a maddening new level of sensation.   
  
It felt like he was trying to crawl inside of Harry.   
  
Harry mewled as Severus pulled his tongue away and replaced it with a third finger that squelched its way in alongside the others. Harry yelped and jerked as the cold lube replaced the hot, squirming wetness of Severus’s tongue.  
  
Severus finally released the floating charm, and Harry was a relieved as he was disappointed to lose his freedom from gravity. As soon as his back hit the mattress, Severus pulled his fingers away and moved up to cover Harry’s body with his own.  
  
Severus squeezed Harry’s arsecheeks as he rubbed his hot prick up and down Harry’s crack. On each upward thrust his balls pressed against Harry’s loose hole, driving him crazy with the aching need to be filled.  
  
“Please! Please, Severus.”  
  
Severus finally gave Harry what he wanted. He changed the angle of his next thrust so that the head of his cock caught just inside the ring of Harry’s arse. Harry gasped out, “Oh, oh, oh” as Severus steadily pushed into him.   
  
Everything was slippery and messy and amazing. Harry couldn’t get too close to Severus, and he surged up to meet each rough thrust. When Severus pushed in one final time and groaned, Harry broke through the sticking charm holding his hands up and grabbed Severus’s arse to pull him in even further.   
  
The rush of come bursting between them was over quickly, but Harry refused to let Severus pull out as his channel continued to pulse, clenching around Severus’s slowly softening cock.  
  
Eventually Severus, inevitably, slipped out, and the lovely, slick warmth between them began to grow cold. Harry’s breathing slowed, and he relaxed as Severus wiped them both off with the sheet and then banished it away somewhere. He only moved to curl around Severus once again when he settled back down and pulled a soft blanket up over them.  
  
  
Harry awoke with a gasp as he felt a distinct fluttering in his abdomen. The fluttering became a squeezing. He could feel his internal organs shifting. It was not exactly painful, but it was horribly nauseating. He grimaced and shoved Severus away. He was probably furious about the implied rejection, but Harry couldn't explain. He was too busy curling into a ball in an attempt to keep his insides inside himself.  
  
"Harry! What's wrong? Have you been poisoned?"  
  
"More like blessed," Harry gurgled.  
  
His intestines had settled, and Harry had no doubt as to what had happened.  
  
"This is no time for jokes. You need to tell me your symptoms so that I can determine the antidote."  
  
Harry chuckled, "I'm afraid we're going to have to wait nine months or so for the cure."  
  
Severus’s eyes narrowed, then widened. He pulled Harry into a forceful hug.  
  
Harry choked as his laughter turned into tears. It was so completely unfair that he was so happy when Ginny—his friend, his lover, his sister—would never, ever know this joy.  
  
Severus didn't say a word. He just held on to Harry as they weathered the storm.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Minerva plot. Harry and Ron plot. Severus does what he has to do. Then Harry gets a little too excited.

Poppy Pomfrey was genuinely smiling when she confirmed Harry's pregnancy. Harry was glad that he could give her a moment of joy. There wasn't much to be happy about at Hogwarts nowadays.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Harry wasn't scheduled to see Pomfrey until 10:00 am, but he had arrived early to catch up with the Headmistress.

He hadn't seen the Headmistress since his wedding reception, and he had been so stunned and overwhelmed then that he could scarcely remember talking to her at all. He was certain, however, she had not looked so haggard then. 

Minerva told him that the Ministry was arranging marriages for Seventh-Year students while they were still in school. Matches were to be revealed directly after the NEWTs. Students and their families had two weeks to find an "acceptable" alternative. If one of the prospective partners refused or failed to find another approved partner, the Ministry-arranged marriage would take place. 

Most of the students were distraught. Some students weren’t.

Upon hearing this, Harry bit his lip and frowned.

“Let me guess. The Slytherins.”

Minerva’s mouth thinned disapprovingly.

“You couldn’t be more wrong, Mr. Potter. The Muggle-borns and Slytherins are the victims in this situation. With their parents either ignorant of or ostracized by the wizarding world, these students have no way to defend themselves. They are subject to being bought by the highest bidder.”

Harry suddenly realized that he was still thinking about the world as it had been. The rules were different now, and this change was not limited to official Ministry decrees. You would think that being married to Severus and working with the Malfoys would have made him realize this at least a little bit. Then again, he’d always had a hard time seeing the shades of gray.

Minerva said she had already decided to cancel the NEWTS and to offer asylum to students who wished to remain.

“Does this mean you’ll be closing off Hogwarts?”   
  
“Yes, Harry. That is exactly what it means.”

Harry was shocked. Even when the Ministry had put Umbridge in charge of Hogwarts, even when Snape had been Headmaster while the Death Eaters ran rampant through the halls, Hogwarts had remained open. The only time the school had closed itself off was during the war.

But Harry quickly adjusted to yet another shift in his worldview. Minerva was not Dumbledore. She was running the school her way, and she had always been fiercely protective of the students. She saw them as an end in themselves, rather than tools to achieve another goal. Harry felt a bit guilty, even now, about thinking ill of Dumbledore. He quickly turned to his next question.

“How will you decide who will stay and who will leave? And how can this be determined without tipping their hand to the Ministry?”

“I was hoping that you could help me with those very questions.”

“Of course, Severus has not been told,” Minerva said carefully.

Harry looked at her with disbelief. She was smirking.

They both burst out laughing.

Both of them knew it didn’t make any difference. It was ridiculous to think that there was anything that went on at Hogwarts that Severus didn’t know. He was as nosy as Dumbledore had ever been, and his time as Headmaster had made him privy to many of the castle’s secrets.

Harry asked whether he could help protect the school once its gates were closed. Minerva assured him that he could do more good on the outside.

“What can I do out there? Nothing! I have been wracking my brain to figure out what I can do to help, and I’ve been trapped at every turn!” Harry realized he was shouting, but he ignored the thin line of Minerva’s lips and carried on, albeit in a quieter manner. “Why are you even telling me about this plan if I can’t help?”

Minerva shook her head sadly.

Harry looked down at the Headmistress’s desk, ashamed of himself for acting like a child. He just felt so helpless.

“And Harry—you _will_ help. It’s who you are. Now, isn’t it time for your appointment with Poppy?”

*~*~*~*~*~*

At lunch, when Harry brought up the situation at Hogwarts, Severus did him the courtesy of not pretending he didn’t know exactly what Harry was talking about.

“I have heard accounts of the Ministry’s communications on the topic from some of my former students. Slytherin House has been targeted in this offensive.”

“As have Muggle-born students!”

“I wouldn’t have heard any rumors from them, however.” Severus’s tone was mild.

“I’m sorry…I shouted at Minerva as well. I don’t think I’m handling all of this as well as I should.”

Harry leaned forward and buried his face in his arms.

After a few moments, Harry felt Severus's hand on his shoulder.

"May I see the scans?"

When Harry showed him Pomfrey’s images of the baby, Severus's eyebrows lowered, and he seemed to be scowling at them. But then Harry realized he was just analyzing the information himself; of course he would not take anyone's word—even Poppy’s—about the baby's health.

Harry had forgotten that this was Severus's child as well. Obviously he knew who the other father was, but he hadn't stopped to think about Severus's feelings in the matter. Even with their new understanding, it was hard for Harry to remember that Severus even _had_ feelings.

Harry felt like smacking himself when he saw the wistful look that crept over Severus's face as he continued to gaze at the indistinct blob that was their baby.

He should have invited Severus to the appointment. He was an idiot.

"I would like it if you came to the rest of the check-ups with me."

Severus began to actually scowl. He must have sensed Harry's regret, and being who he was, he read it as pity. Harry had to cut that kind of thinking off at the pass.

"It's not that I don't trust Madame Pomfrey; she's saved my life more times than I can count. It's just that she's rather...brusque. I'd like to have a hand to hold when I'm there.

Severus stopped scowling, but his voice was a mock growl when he answered, "I will gladly hold your hand, but don't expect any mollycoddling from me."

Harry simply smiled and said "Thank you."

Severus didn't need to know that Harry was smiling at how transparent he was.

The deception held when Harry managed to act surprised every evening when Severus, rather than Kreacher, brought him his tea every night from then on. He knew he wasn’t fooling anyone, and he hated the tisanes that Severus prepared for him, but he loved the evidence of Severus's care for him and for _their_ baby.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Harry was assigned to keep an eye on Ron while Severus and Hermione met with Ginny for the…treatment. Harry wasn’t as uncomfortable with lying as he used to be. He had learned too many things that he’d rather he hadn’t. He would never hide anything from Ron that affected him directly, but it wasn’t really Ron’s business what his sister did with her person.

It wasn’t any of Harry’s business either, but he _had_ asked Severus to be open with him. And if he had found out about Severus’s actions at a later date, he wasn’t sure that either of them would have survived long enough to examine motivations. He was still aching at the thought of the sacrifice Ginny was being forced to make.

He worked to keep his mind focused on his and Ron’s discussion of the state of things at the Ministry.

“I’m just frustrated, that’s all. I have to go in to work every day and listen to Jorkins’s cronies sermonize on the wondrous new society we are going to have now that such a visionary is in charge of things. Whoever opposes the entire program is silenced, or as good as.”

Harry nodded. He knew that Ron was as hobbled as he was when it came to resisting the Ministry. While Harry’s reputation tied his hands, Ron couldn’t afford to lose his job at the Ministry. It wasn’t that he couldn’t get another job. But if Ron left the Ministry, they would only have Percy left on the inside. And Percy was still not allowed into the inner circle.

After Ron’s marriage, he had been wooed by the Ministry. His “exemplary conduct” during the war and his “correct choice” of a wife allowed Jorkins to hold him up as a model citizen. Any uncharitable thoughts Harry might have had about Ron’s finally getting to be the center of attention were squashed by his intimate knowledge of just how miserable that position was.

“What can we do, Ron?”

“Ah, mate. I have no idea. What _can_ a pregnant hero and a Ministry puppet do? I think we’re out of options.”

“I’m serious. There must be something we can do. There has to be.”

Ron really looked at Harry then. Harry hoped that his determination showed in his face. After a few moments, Ron smiled.

“That’s more like it! You’re right, Harry. Just because we can’t fight this thing like we’re used to doing doesn’t mean we’re helpless. There’s more than one way to win a war, after all.”

Harry felt more powerful than he had in ages as they began to plot.

*~*~*~*~*~*

When they came together again that evening, Severus had reverted to the vague pleasantness that Harry now recognized as a defense mechanism. Harry didn’t push. He knew that Severus didn’t want to talk about the details of his day, and Harry certainly had no desire to hear them. Instead, he mentioned Ron’s frustration about his “embedded” status at the Ministry.

This actually got a smirk from Severus.

“Perhaps now Mr. Weasley will appreciate the effort required to be a successful double agent.”

Harry laughed.

“I don’t think it’s occurred to him to compare his role to yours. After all, he doesn’t have to take a Dark Mark or commit war crimes.”

Severus looked steadily at him and said, “No. He just has to sit quietly while others do.”

Harry’s face crumpled. For all his petty cruelties and intentional nastiness, Severus had never before actually caused physical harm to a student. Until today, when he had done so at Ginny’s own request.

Severus was kneeling at his side in an instant. His quick surrender made Harry even more upset. Then Severus said something so unimaginably horrible that Harry almost believed he wasn't actually Severus at all.

“I’m so sorry, Harry. I didn’t mean to upset you. Your condition…”

Harry forced out a laugh.

“Being pregnant doesn’t give one license to be a prat. None of this is a joking matter; I need to remember that.”

Severus closed his eyes briefly. Then he said, “Perhaps we can find a better way to wash away this day. Fancy a bath?”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Harry knew that his pregnancy wasn’t precisely showing yet. But as he slid onto the bath, he pictured his bump rising up out of the water, round and gleaming with rivulets of water flowing down the sides. For now, he let himself be held down by Severus’s strong arms. 

Inspired by their new furnishings, Harry had refurbished the parts of Grimmauld Place where a good cleaning would never be enough. The master bath was no longer a dank, grotty cavern. Now it was spectacular.

The cobalt blue Greek key tile that decorated the walls looked a bit like a bright parade of “S”s. Harry wasn’t sure that Severus had noticed the repetition of his initials throughout the room—he almost certainly had, as Severus missed nothing—but it amused Harry greatly.

For the tub, he had settled upon a stylized representation of a Gordian Knot. It seemed to sum things up well enough.

The water that filled the tub was charmed to flow endlessly over a two-meter-tall ledge, providing a smooth waterfall that could be used to rinse off or just to provide a soothing sound. It could also be adjusted to flow more forcefully, which was good for giving oneself a massage, as well as for other things. Severus most often turned it off completely when he bathed alone.

But Harry loved the gentle sound of the water, and it relaxed him as Severus pulled him against his chest. Harry leaned his head back against Severus’s shoulder and closed his eyes. Severus’s hands glided up and down Harry’s sides, then moved to caress the slight swell of his belly. Harry swore he could feel heat radiating from inside of him, pushing out towards the long fingers that curled around him.

Harry’s sigh of pleasure caused the prick pressed against his back to twitch. Severus’s hands moved down to grasp Harry’s hips. Harry rolled from side to side, feeling the skin of Severus's prick sliding as it was crushed between their bodies.

Severus sank down on the spell-cushioned seat that ran around the inside edge of the tub. Harry gasped as a whispered spell made him open and slick and, without further ado, he was pulled down onto Severus's cock.

The water held Harry and he half-floated, grounded only by Severus’s hands around his hips and the hot length splitting him in half. Severus let him rise up and then pulled him down hard; Harry thrashed and moaned. It was intoxicating to be maneuvered so easily. The weightless feeling heightened the solidity of their connection. When Severus stiffened and came, Harry felt like his whole being had coalesced around the cock pulsing inside him. 

Severus was still firm when he pulled Harry off and spun around to set him on the edge of the tub. Harry felt the cold of the tile on his bum at the same time that Severus leaned down and sucked him into a mouth that burned like a furnace. He shrieked as he came, and saw stars when he arched back and whacked his head on the hard, hard tiles.

Then the world went dark.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus decides he is too dangerous for Harry.

Harry fought his way up through a sea of jeering faces until he could finally open his eyes. It was not a pleasant experience.  
  
Squinting against the unbearably bright light of the waking world, he croaked out, "Severus?"  
  
"He's just stepped out. I need to hear from your lips exactly what happened, Mr. Potter."  
  
Harry tried to focus his eyes when he recognized Poppy Pomfrey's voice. Why in the world would she want to hear about his sex life?  
  
Harry hadn't heard such a disapproving tone since he was a student at Hogwarts and was endlessly in and out of the infirmary.  
  
"I hit my head on the bathroom floor."  
  
Poppy's face relaxed marginally.   
  
"Right, then. That's what Severus said. I just had to be sure."  
  
Harry winced as the effort of frowning in confusion caused a new spike of pain to lance through his brain. He gasped, and Poppy gave him a vial of pain-killing potion. It wasn't nearly strong enough. Poppy noticed his grimace.  
  
"You're just going to have to suffer. Anything stronger would be bad for the baby."  
  
The baby. Harry shot up, and Poppy was there with a basin just as Harry tossed everything up—including the pain potion. The resulting earthquake in his brain pushed him back down into the whirling darkness.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
The next time Harry awoke, it was far less painful. There was still a dull ache at the back of his head, but he could focus on the world around him. Even though he vaguely remembered talking to Poppy, he was still surprised to find himself in the Hogwarts Infirmary.   
  
Minerva was at his bedside, looking down at him with a stern expression.  
  
"One would have thought that you'd learned to use the toilet by now, Mr. Potter," Minerva huffed.  
  
Harry didn't think before he reflexively tried to deflect her anger.  
  
"Muggles say the bathroom is the most dangerous room in the house."  
  
"I see that you are still as idiotic as ever, Mr. Potter. Thankfully, one does not need a properly functioning brain to maintain a pregnancy."  
  
"Severus!"  
  
Harry's relief was short-lived. He barely caught a glimpse of his husband's face as he spun on his heel and swept right out of the infirmary.  
  
Harry struggled to sit up and follow him, but Minerva actually pushed him back down against the pillows.   
  
"It would be wise for you to stay put, Mr. Potter."  
  
Why did everyone keep calling him "Mr. Potter"? He was in the infirmary, everyone was addressing him as if he was a student... Harry wondered if he had been thrown back in time when he whacked his head. Or had the years since he left Hogwarts been a dream?  
  
But no, Severus had mentioned the pregnancy.  
  
"Is the baby—" Harry couldn't bring himself to finish that particular sentence.  
  
"The baby is fine. I am more concerned with your apparent inability to stay out of hospital."  
  
Minerva was talking to him like she was still his head of house. Harry was irritated, and he almost snapped that it was Severus's bloody fault that he had suffered a head injury.   
  
But then he remembered what Poppy had said the first time he awoke: _I need to hear from your lips exactly what happened, Mr. Potter._ He'd heard that before, in Muggle primary school when teachers would notice his scrapes and bruises.   
  
It made him furious that Poppy and Minerva, of all people, would suspect Severus of abusing him. Yes, there had been rancor between them. But Severus had never hurt him—not physically. He still hadn’t.   
  
Now to convince everyone else that this was true.  
  
From long experience, he knew exactly what to say in these situations.  
  
"You're right. I should be more careful. I will be from now on."  
  
Minerva was clearly a bit flummoxed to have the wind taken out of her sails so suddenly. She pushed on, "Mind that you do, Harry. There is more at stake now than just your own life."  
  
Harry took a deep breath. He was back to being "Harry" now. And at least Minerva didn't remind him that the fate of the entire wizarding world rested on his shoulders, not like...  
  
His headache was coming back with a vengeance as he fought back unacceptable thought after thought. Better stick to something safe.  
  
"Where is Severus?"  
  
Minerva's face tightened again.  
  
"I would imagine that he is in his quarters in the dungeons."  
  
"When will he be back?"  
  
"I couldn't say."  
  
"Well, then, when can I go down?"  
  
For the first time in his life, Minerva didn't meet his eyes.  
  
"I wouldn't dare to guess, Harry."  
  
Harry’s forehead wrinkled as the implications of this sentence teased at his brain.  
  
“You mean he…”  
  
“He said that it wasn’t safe for you to be near him. We thought… Well, we thought he meant that he was the one who had put you here in the infirmary.”  
  
“He wasn’t.”  
  
“So you said.”  
  
Minerva’s face was a mixture of pity and disbelief.  
  
Harry kept calm, even though he knew he was lying. It _had_ been Severus who put him here. Well, sort of. But it wasn’t anybody’s fault. How would he explain that to Severus Snape, of all people? Severus could never resist placing the blame somewhere.   
  
And now he was blaming himself for hurting Harry. Even though he hadn’t.  
  
But he _was_ hurting Harry now, with his retreat to the dungeons, to coldness, to self-hatred.   
  
Harry didn't say "goodbye" when the Headmistress left. His head was buried in his hands as he worked to hide his tears.  
  
He knew that this behavior would only make Minerva and Poppy more suspicious. But he couldn’t help himself.  
  
Couldn’t things be easy, just once?


	15. Chapter Fifteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All plans have unintended consequences.

It was a whole day before Poppy allowed Harry to get out of bed. He wanted to run down to the dungeons immediately, but he was forestalled by Minerva. She appeared the moment his feet hit the floor. 

"It would be best if you waited until you were stronger." 

Harry had no doubt what she meant. He glared and began to protest, but she interrupted him. 

"I'm well aware that you think this is none of my business, Harry." At least he wasn't "Mr. Potter" again. "However, I must insist. _Everything_ that happens at Hogwarts is my responsibility. If you refuse to consider my wishes in this matter, I will ask you and Severus to leave." 

Harry was slack-jawed. He had always known that Minerva was strict and brooked no nonsense; he had never thought she would throw him out on the street. Well, of course he did have his own house, but it certainly felt like he was going to be thrown out in the street. 

"No need for that, Harry. I am not trying to punish you. I have known you since you were eleven." 

She shook her head at his rebellious look. 

"And I have known Severus since he was eleven. I ask this out of love and respect for both of you. You need time to heal, and Severus needs time to see the error of his ways." 

"But he didn't hurt me!" 

Minerva raised an eyebrow. Harry could see where Severus had learned that particular trick. 

"Didn't he? You don't look very happy to me, Harry." 

Harry hated the fact that Minerva always knew best. He really did.

 ~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Harry took his supper in the Great Hall. He sat at the staff table, and it took a good twenty minutes for the students' chatter to die down. 

At first, he was irritated that Minerva didn't call for order. But when the students were finally quiet, he could see the wisdom of her decision. No one showed any further interest in him. If she had made a big deal out of it, it would only have whipped things into a frenzy. Minerva may not have been Head of Hogwarts for as long as Dumbledore was, but she certainly was effective. 

Harry thanked her for her consideration by putting her on the spot. He knew he was being terribly ungrateful, but he told himself it was for the greater good. If that meant it was for _his_ greater good ... well, he had had enough of being chastised. 

He was seated between the Headmistress and Hagrid. He knew that once Hagrid "overheard" his plan, there would be no way to get that particular cat back in the bag. 

Harry spoke perfectly clearly, but not too loudly. There was no chance that Minerva would be unaware of what he was doing, but there was no reason to rub her face in it. 

"Ron and I have a plan." 

Minerva's raised eyebrow was reminding Harry more and more of Severus. He swallowed his sadness and frustration along with his anxiety and continued, "It involves Hogwarts." 

Minerva closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I suppose I don't have to remind you of what I told you this afternoon." 

Honestly, if Harry didn't have a perfect view of steel gray hair and tartan robes, he would have sworn he was talking to his husband. Luckily, he had had several months of practice answering that tone without panicking. 

"No, of course not. In fact, that's why I decided to tell you about our plan." 

"After you and Mr. Weasley had already decided to go through with it, of course." 

So they were back to "Mr.". It was no use remonstrating; he would have to ignore her attempts to distance him, just as he did with Severus. Well, two could play at that game. 

"Yes, Headmistress. Perhaps we were... ." 

He noted Minerva's scowl and changed his tack. 

"I know we should have discussed it with you first. But we were desperate. Both of us feel that our hands are tied by our current situations. No one will believe that Ron is anything but a clean and shiny representative of the Ministry, and as for me ... well, I'm seen as a monster again." 

Minerva didn't bat an eye at this description of Harry's reputation. She well remembered the way the public's love for Harry rapidly swung to hatred and vice-versa. He was too notorious to ever enjoy an uncomplicated public image. 

"Very well. I suppose I should be happy that you are clearing this plan with me before you have set it in motion." 

Just then Poppy entered the Great Hall. Harry watched her approach the Head Table at a furious pace. Whatever could be wrong now? He clearly heard her when she whispered furiously to Minerva, and he blanched. 

Hermione was in the infirmary. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Harry stifled his urge to push past Minerva and Poppy on the way to the infirmary. Ron couldn't have had worse timing. 

"How can we help you, Hermione?" 

The Headmistress's tone was polite, but firm. No "Ms." for Hermione. 

Harry felt a bit resentful. But then, Hermione has always been Minerva's favorite. 

The Headmistress seemed to read Harry's thoughts. 

"I assure you, Mr. Potter, I treat all of my students fairly--whatever my personal feelings towards them may or may not be." 

It was uncanny how much Minerva resembled Severus. Or was it the other way round? She had been his teacher, after all, and she had probably also been his mentor when he began teaching. When Harry and his friends had been students, they had been too blinded by prejudice to notice the similarities between the two. 

Harry snapped out of his reverie to find three pairs of eyes trained on him. 

"Harry? Didn't you and Ron get the Headmistress's approval for your plan?" 

Minerva said, "Please call me Minerva" at the same time that Harry said, "Well, not yet ..." 

Hermione's glare put Poppy's and Minerva's in the shade. 

"Let me make sure I understand." 

This was never a good beginning. When Hermione said this sentence in this tone, Harry (and Ron) went ahead and began trembling in their boots. 

"You kidnapped me, at my husband's urging, while I was pregnant, and plan to keep me where I'm not expected and may not be welcome?" 

Harry lost track of who was shouting what. Cries of "Kidnapped?"; "Of course you're welcome"; and "What in the world were you thinking?" overlapped one another. 

His head started to throb again. 

~*~*~*~*~*~ 

It had seemed like such a reasonable plan. It worked right into public opinion, twisting the lies to their benefit. Harry would remain the mysterious and dangerous force he had always been; Ron would be the perfect grieving husband. And Hermione would have her baby at Hogwarts, where she would be safe from reporters and Ministry lackeys alike. 

It did require great sacrifices from Ron and Hermione--what father and mother would want to be apart when their child was born?--but, as always, they would be willing to do what had to be done. At least Ron had said they would be. 

He and Ron hadn't thought about how their plan would affect Minerva and Hogwarts in general. Well, Harry had thought about it. But it seemed to fit right into his and Ron's plan. The only part he had missed was the part where he actually checked with her. 

Hermione snapped, "Where's Severus? I want to know what he was thinking when he went along with this." 

Harry turned beet red. "He's not exactly talking to me right now." 

"I don't blame him. He must be mortified at the position you have placed Minerva in." 

"He doesn't exactly know about it. He's been holed up in the dungeons since I woke up." 

"Since you woke up? You were sleeping at Hogwarts? Harry James Potter, what exactly is going on?" 

~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Hermione's angry tirade had overwhelmed even Minerva's objections. Harry would go after Severus, and they would reconcile. 

At this point Harry was willing to agree to anything; Hermione in the last trimester of pregnancy was far scarier than Severus had ever been. 

But there was something he had to do first. One of the main points of Hermione's rant had been a comparison of Harry's situation with Ginny's. While Harry "simply needed to take his head out of his arse and talk to his husband," Ginny was a hair's breadth from being thrown into Azkaban. 

After recovering from his shock at Hermione's language--he was not sure Minerva would ever recover, though Poppy had seemed unshaken--Harry had had to admit to himself that she was spot on. 

He didn't know how he was going to talk Severus out of his sulk, but he was pretty sure he knew how to help Ginny. 

*~*~*~*~*~* 

Minutes after he firecalled them from the Headmistress’s office, Harry was ensconced in Lucius's office with both of the senior Malfoys. 

"I really don't want to ask you for help again; I know that you've already done far too much for me and for Severus..." 

"Nonsense." 

But Lucius did look irritated. 

Narcissa's voice was gentle. 

"Harry, dear. It is lovely that you want to be polite. But your protestations make us feel you don't think we have your interests at heart." 

"Yes, at least do us the courtesy of ..." 

Narcissa quieted Lucius with a hand on his arm. 

Harry was mortified, but he gulped and carried on, "I know that ... I mean, you and the Weasleys have never ..." 

Lucius was tapping his fingers together impatiently. Harry knew he'd better just spit it out. He didn't need _all_ the ex-Death Eaters cheesed off at him. 

"Ginny Weasley has been accused of reproductive crimes. Someone told the Ministry about the potion Severus gave her." 

"Doesn't this mean that Severus is also in danger?" 

Lucius's look of annoyance softened into one of concern. Even after all the Malfoys had done for Severus, Harry thought he would never get used to the idea that Lucius could care for someone who was not directly related to him. Thank God the Malfoys honored their debts. 

"Actually, whoever tipped off the Ministry left Severus out of it." 

"Did they?" 

Why was everyone so damned good at this eyebrow-raising thing? 

Harry soldiered on, "The Ministry isn't planning to have a trial. They want to show that no one is above the law--especially the Marriage Law." 

Lucius finally smiled. 

"Well, well. We certainly can't let the Ministry get away with that sort of thing, can we?"


	16. Chapter Sixteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus interprets things in his own way.

Harry had been banging on the door for quite a while. Frankly, his hands were getting sore. That's why he decided to appeal to Severus's greatest weakness: his need to know everything.

He stopped pounding on the door and said, in a conversational tone, "I talked to the Malfoys today."

He knew that Severus could hear him. The door might seem solid from the outside, but he was quite sure that Severus could see and hear everything that went on.

"They helped me with a rather pressing personal matter."

The words had barely left his lips when the door flew open inwards.

"How dare Lucius meddle in my business..."

Harry thought it best not to comment on the fact that this was the first glimpse he'd had of his husband in days.

"I didn't say it was your business."

"Despite the certainty that our marriage is the worst thing in the world for you, we are still married. Your business is my business."

That was rich, considering Severus's recent withdrawal from anything even remotely related to Harry. But Harry wanted Severus back more than he wanted to make a point.

"Yes, that's true. But it's not technically my business. In fact, maybe it's more your business than mine..."

"Stop babbling, get in here, and make some sense."

And without further ado, Harry was exactly where he wanted to be. Well, close to it, anyway.

~*~*~*~*~

Harry was quite proud of the plan he and Lucius had developed. Ginny would leave England and stay at one of the Malfoy properties in France. 

Severus smirked and said, “Of course, Draco will visit her. She will be so lonely and desperate for a taste of home that she will be very grateful for his company. One thing will lead to another...”

“Hey! I know you don’t like Ginny, but there’s no need to be crude. She’s not a bint.”

“Now who’s being crude?” Severus was actually laughing, “I know Lucius Malfoy, Harry. He’s giving his son a beautiful, pure-blooded witch who has no other marriage options. And you are helping him!”

It was so exhilarating to see Severus laughing that Harry almost forgot to be offended by his wording. Almost.

 "We aren't giving Ginny to Draco. She's not a thing to be given."

"Certainly not. Don't forget that I've been on the receiving end of Ms. Weasley's right hook. I should have said that you are giving Draco to her."

"That's not what I meant! Anyway, nobody will be giving anybody to anybody. Ginny wouldn’t touch Draco with a ten-foot pole.”

Severus raised an eyebrow. 

Harry spluttered, but he had to admit that Severus had a point. Damn it, when had he come to understand Severus’s eyebrows, let alone agree with them?

“Ok. They’re both Seekers, they’re both gorgeous and smart, and they both like expensive things. Maybe they would get along. But Draco's engaged. He wouldn't desert Gabrielle; it would be wrong."

Severus snorted.

"Well, ok. Maybe he wouldn't care about that. But who's to say that he would choose Ginny? Gabrielle is practically a Veela!"

"Why would he have to choose? A triad is more than acceptable in France. If anything, Draco’s status would rise."

Harry frowned. He had no idea what Severus was talking about.

"Don’t you see, Harry? It's perfect. You have done the Malfoys a great service. They will have part-Veela daughters who will be able to make any marriages they want. And they will have pure-blooded sons to carry on the family name."

"But...how?"

"The Malfoys know a very proficient Potions Master, who happens to owe them his freedom. You didn't really think I would invent a potion to induce barrenness without also creating an antidote, did you? And the gender of any offspring can easily be assured with the right potions."

"I meant..."

"I know what you meant. But I'd prefer not to discuss the intricacies of triads with you. We have enough to work out about relationships without adding trigonometry to the mix."

Harry figured that this was the only apology he was going to get. He accepted it gladly.

~*~*~*~*~

Harry wasn't sure why he had agreed to this until Severus began licking him. The warm, wet pressure on his balls and his perineum distracted from the silken cords that bound his hands to the headboard of the enormous bed in Severus's quarters.

Severus had been very convincing, if a bit duplicitous. Of course, by now Harry knew better than to assume that he would be able to understand the plans of any Slytherin.  

 Severus had declared that there would be absolutely no sexual contact between the two of them unless he was sure that Harry would not fall off of or onto anything. Harry had taken a look at the rather thick rug in front of the fireplace and had readily agreed. 

Which was how he had ended up trussed up like a sacrificial offering.

The more Harry struggled to move his hands--to touch something, anything--the more agitated he became, and the more Severus teased him. It was maddening.

Harry arched his hips up as far as he could, trying to push his cock further into Severus's mouth. But as Harry lifted himself up, Severus retreated. He was holding Harry's glans in his mouth and sucking it like he wanted to pull it off. Harry was moving beyond pleasure into irritation when Severus pulled off completely with a rather loud "pop."

"Holy fuck, Severus, what do you think you're doing?"

Severus grasped Harry's hips and hauled his arse further up off of the bed. Harry instinctively wrapped his legs around Severus's waist.

"It is called _frottage_."

Harry forgave the pretentious French pronunciation when Severus conjured something slick between them and began to thrust his prick up alongside Harry's. 

The pressure on Harry's shaft was satisfying, but the best part came at the end of each thrust when Severus's balls slapped Harry's slick, spread arse. Harry began to push up into each thrust, gasping each time Severus smacked into his sensitized hole. Severus's deep groan and the hot rush of his come that added another layer of sensation between them pushed Harry over the edge, and he cried out with each pulse of his cock and clench of his arse. 

When Severus tried to roll off, Harry clasped his legs more tightly around his waist and wouldn't let him go.

"Lie here a bit, I want to feel you on me."

"The baby..."

"Poppy assured me that the baby is protected by amniotic fluid. Plus--you may be tall, but you aren't that heavy."

Severus sniffed, but he stopped trying to get away and relaxed onto Harry's chest.

After a few minutes of silence, Harry sighed.

"I wish we could stay this way all the time."

"In bed?" 

Severus sounded scandalized. Harry was amused that this was what it took to shock the normally unflappable man.

"No, not in bed. I want to stay wrapped around you, like a Lethifold. But less blood-sucky."

"While that might solve some of our communication problems, it wouldn't be worth the increased difficulty of movement."

Harry snorted and pushed Severus off of him. He wasn't that light.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry figures out some things, but it may be too late.

Harry wasn’t sure that anything had been resolved between Severus and himself. He honestly didn’t care, either. He wasn’t stranded out in the hall anymore, and they were having sex again. No worries.  
  
But he had been friends with Hermione long enough that he knew she would want to hear about what he and Severus had talked about. She had never twigged to the fact that men didn’t talk, unless women made them.  
  
That was yet another reason to be grateful that he had ended up married to Severus. Harry didn’t think that Severus would talk about his feelings even under the threat of Cruciatus. In fact, Harry knew that Severus wouldn’t talk about his feelings, ever. Even when Severus had been dying, he hadn’t talked about anything. He’d allowed his memories to be shown, but only in a Pensieve and only after he was certain that he would be dead long before anyone saw them.  
  
As there were no immediate death threats, Harry rather thought that he was safe in assuming that Severus would simply continue to keep mum. As long as Severus wasn’t locking himself in the dungeon, Harry wasn’t going to complain.  
  
Of course, Harry did have some opinions on why Severus had been such a berk. Harry himself had felt like a student when he had woken in the Hogwarts Infirmary. How must he have looked to Severus? Harry was rather glad, in some ways, that the reminder of himself as a student hadn’t filled Severus with happiness and lust.  
  
It was all rather disturbing when one thought about it that way. So Harry wouldn’t.  
  
Hopefully Hermione would be too distracted by yelling at him about his stupid plans to remember to quiz him about his relationship.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
As it happened, no one seemed to give a damn about Harry and Severus’s relationship. Well, Severus did spend some time bemoaning being shackled to a self-centered idiot with delusions of grandeur. But that was practically pillow talk. Harry rather preferred this Severus—the one with a bit of nastiness and drama—to the rather subdued man he’d brought home to Grimmauld Place.  
  
Harry appreciated Severus’s efforts to be kind, and he understood Severus’s hesitation about his place in this brave new world.  
  
But the Severus he admired had always been more like a dagger than a teddy bear. If he was lucky, Harry mused, he could have both sides of Severus to himself, forever.  
  
“Are you even listening to us?”  
  
Harry started. He unwillingly brought his awareness back to the Headmistress’s office.  
  
“It’s a bit hard to listen when you are all shouting at once. Maybe you could draw lots to see who gets to lecture me first.”  
  
Hermione turned a dangerous shade of red.  
  
Harry began to reconsider the wisdom of taunting a woman who was 8 months pregnant.  
  
Hermione’s voice was little more than a whisper, “You. Will. Listen. To me. God help me, Harry, if I have to sit on you to make it happen, I will.”  
  
While Hermione had always been slight, her present state made this a serious threat.  
  
“Yes, m…Yes, I will.”  
  
Harry stopped himself just in time before saying “ma’am.” Any hint of sarcasm at this delicate time would lead to squashed bits. And he needed his bits; they were rather key in his marriage.  
  
His meek response seemed to mollify Hermione enough that she could pause and take a breath.  
  
Even Minerva and Severus seemed to recognize the danger of Hermione exploding, perhaps literally, and they waited for Hermione to speak first.  
  
“I trusted you, Harry. I trusted you and Ron enough that I let you use me and my baby as a pawn in this game you are playing with the Minister of Magic.”  
  
Harry started to protest, but Hermione anticipated him.  
  
“Yes, it is a game. An important game, but a game nonetheless. You are all just boys playing chicken. Present company excluded.”  
  
Minerva met Hermione’s eyes and nodded.  
  
Severus scowled. He clearly felt that he had been relegated to the boys’ side.  
  
“The reason I agreed to play along is that I think the Minister is the biggest boy of all. He is a bully, and he thinks that people are interchangeable pawns. Even Dumbledore and Voldemort …” All present cringed, but Hermione soldiered on, “Even the two most powerful leaders of our time recognized individuals. They may not have taken those individuals’ preferences into account, but they understood that each person has his or her own talents, weaknesses, and feelings. Stamford Jorkins has the perspective of a two-year-old spoilt brat. If his toys don’t do what he wants, he breaks them. One is as good as another. And I will _not_ have my child taken away from me.”  
  
Harry manfully resisted the urge to encourage Hermione to let them know what she really thought. But he had to admit he hadn't thought about the baby, the _babies_ , and what the unscrupulous Minister might do to them. Plus, Severus’s face had relaxed marginally as he listened. This was all to the good, so he kept his mouth shut.  
  
Minerva was the one who interrupted Hermione.  
  
“I agree that Minister Jorkins is playing a game, and that he thinks that people are expendable. But I do not think he is as blind to the worth of individuals as you believe. At the very least, he knows the difference between a pawn and a castle, if you will.”  
  
Severus nodded, and added, “Yes, he attacked Ginevra Weasley first; it was a bold move directed against Harry.”  
  
Harry hadn’t really thought of it that way. He had been too concerned with Ginny’s safety to think about how all of her troubles might have been orchestrated to get to him. The idea that the only interest the Minister had in Ginny was as a hostage to use against Harry infuriated him. He hoped that she did pair up--triple up, whatever--with Draco Malfoy, and that the Malfoys would use every resource they had to avenge her.  
  
Harry certainly would.  
  
Minerva shook her head sadly at Severus’s depiction of Ginny’s plight. Then she put another nail in the Minister’s coffin.  
  
“He is certainly attacking our weakest points. Just thirty minutes after Hermione was brought to Hogwarts, Luna Lovegood was arrested.”  
  
Harry’s ability to love had been the weapon that allowed him to defeat Voldemort. He wasn’t about to let the Minister turn it against him.  
  
No one hurt his loved ones.  
  
The Minister was as good as dead.


	18. Chapter Eighteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You mean the world doesn't revolve around Harry? But, really, all he needs is ~~Severus~~ love.

Luna Lovegood had been arrested. Harry couldn’t believe it; he couldn’t picture in Azkaban. Yes, he had seen her imprisoned in Malfoy Manor, but even then it had seemed a violation of the natural order. She belonged in the air, in the sunshine.  
  
Luna Lovegood was a conscientious objector. In other words, she had refused to adhere to the Ministry's Marriage Law on religious grounds. No one, not even Hermione, understood exactly what religion Luna meant. Harry wasn’t even sure that it could be defined; he thought that was rather the point.  
   
Harry was sure that Minister Jorkins had been quick to dismiss Luna as crazy.  
   
So many people did.  
   
But the Minister hadn't dared to imprison the editor-in-chief of _The Quibbler_ , until now.  
   
Harry knew that he and Luna were often lumped together. The Ministry had tried to downplay both of their roles in the war, and _The Daily Prophet_ presented them both as mad, manipulative liars. It suited the Minister to show that he was not only persecuting Harry, and it suited _The Daily Prophet_ to have a reason to attack their main competitor.  
   
But he had not thought that she would be dragged into his personal showdown with the Minister. He hadn't even seen Luna since before his marriage to Severus.  
   
He said as much, "But I haven't seen Luna for almost a year! Why would the Minister go after her to get to me?"  
   
Minerva frowned.  
   
"Who said that you had anything to do with her arrest?"  
   
"Severus said..."  
   
Severus interrupted, "I said that the Minister's attacks on Ginevra Weasley were almost certainly inspired by your relationship with her. It does not follow that every action the Ministry takes against its citizens is directly connected to you."  
   
Harry's face crumpled. For the second time in a few days he was afraid that he was going to start sobbing. Clearly, he was not cut out for pregnancy.  
   
"I don't think everything is about me. I thought you had figured that out by now."  
   
Severus put a gentle hand on Harry's leg, but he was clearly using all of his iron will to keep his voice calm.  
   
"I do know that, Harry. But I also know that you still feel responsible for the welfare of every person in Wizarding Britain. You need to tell us what you've been planning."  
   
"It was Ron's plan, too."  
   
Minerva pursed her lips and almost growled, "That hardly inspires more confidence."  
   
Severus gave her a quelling look, and she actually demurred.  
   
Harry was actually quivering. He wasn't sure if it was nerves, embarrassment, or fear. It was probably all of them at once.  
   
His and Ron's plan had seemed simple when they first thought of it, but it had spun out of control. If only he hadn't hit his head and set things in motion before they were ready.  
   
No, even if that hadn't happened it would have gone pear-shaped. It was a stupid plan. He and Hermione were pregnant, what was Ron's excuse?  
   
Ron probably couldn't resist the chance to be the hero. Harry winced at this thought. He was being a prick. They were all in this together.  
   
Severus's voice was soothing, as if he was talking a Kneazle down from a tree, "Harry, you aren't making it any easier on yourself by stalling. We agreed to trust one another. If you tell me what you've been up to, I will not...react badly. I almost certainly will not agree with you, but I will listen. I promise."  
   
Harry hadn't been this terrified since he walked into the Forbidden Forest to die. He had been and always would be willing to sacrifice everything for a just cause. But now he realized that this wasn't true anymore. He wouldn't be able to stand it if he lost Severus's respect.  
   
But it was too late for that. There was no way that Severus would have a shred of respect left for him after this, if he had indeed ever even had any. Harry might as well admit it—it was over.  
   
He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and laid his cards on the table.  
   
*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
   
First, Hermione would go into hiding at Hogwarts with Harry. Ron would "let" the Minister talk him into believing that Harry had kidnapped her. The Aurors would be sent to rescue her, with Ron leading the charge, only to "discover" that the whole thing had been manufactured by the Ministry in an attempt to draw attention away from the increasingly negative impact of the Marriage Law.  
   
He and Ron had been sure that their plan had covered all the hoops. Ron was, to all appearances, a loyal Ministry supporter. He and his wife had married for love, while obeying the Ministry's Marriage Law. They were constantly held up by the Ministry as the perfect example of how the Marriage Law should work. They had both seen the value of Ron's position in the Ministry's good graces, so they had gone along with it.  
   
In addition to the Weasley-Granger's cache, Hermione would have a newborn infant in her arms when the Aurors came. The Ministry's own family values campaign would be used against them.  
   
The Trio's tearful reunion would be top news. It wouldn't hurt that Harry was pregnant with his Ministry-sanctioned husband's child.  
   
Even those who had forgotten or discounted the Trio's defeat of Voldemort would be hard pressed to choose the Minister over such a group of "victims". They would be the darlings of the public, and their message would be heard and heeded.  
   
Severus was a bit of a wild card, which was ostensibly their reason for leaving him out of their plans. Plausible deniability and all that.  
   
Honestly, though, Harry had been quite sure Severus would never agree to any part of the plan. He had hoped that the sight of Hermione and child, backed by a Harry who was blossoming with child, would somehow wipe all of Severus’s anger away.  
   
They had all been idiots.  
   
*~*~*~*~*~*  
   
Severus kept his promise not to blow up at Harry.  He addressed Hermione.  
   
"You knew what Harry and your husband had planned, Ms. Granger?"  
   
Hermione's face, which had grown redder and redder during Harry's recitation, grew pale.  
   
"Some of it."  
   
"Yet you did not see the basic flaw of such a plan?"  
   
"Well..."  
   
As she dithered, Harry was suddenly struck by how vulnerable Hermione appeared. She had always been their rock. She made the plans, she did the research, and she tried to pull them back from the brink when he and Ron went too far.  
   
But as she squirmed under Severus and Minerva's steady regard, she looked like the girl who had been reduced to tears by Ron's cruel words when they were eleven.  
   
But this time the whole country was at risk, and their odds of success were even worse than those of three first-years against a full-grown mountain troll.  
   
Minerva was sputtering now, but Harry would swear that Severus's face softened.  
   
"Hermione," Severus's voice was gentle, "Didn't you realize that the three of you could not fight this battle by yourselves?"  
   
Harry' shame hit him like a bludger. How could he have talked Hermione into this?  
   
"You're right! I never should have dragged her and Ron into this. I should have acted alone. I was just being selfish."  
   
Severus squeezed Harry's leg, and he was shaking his head in what looked like disappointment.  The tears that Harry had swallowed down welled up again.  
   
Minerva deflated. She, too, shook her head.  
   
Harry's tears spilled down his cheeks.  
   
Minerva cleared her throat, "Harry. Please listen to me. I told you before that you would help in this conflict, that it was who you were. I did not mean that it was your battle."  
   
"But..."  
   
Severus didn't even let Harry get this one word out before he swung around and grabbed him by the shoulders.  
   
"I always said that you were a self-centered, arrogant brat."  
   
Harry cringed, expecting Severus to shake him.  
   
But Severus pulled Harry close, almost smothering him in his robes as he clutched him to his chest.  
   
"What I should have said is that you are a ridiculously self-sacrificing man who needs someone to take care of him."  
   
Harry wanted to protest, but it felt so good to snuggle into Severus's chest that he stayed there.


	19. Chapter Nineteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You win some, you lose some.

Harry never wanted to look up again. He would just stay here on Severus’s lap with his face buried in Severus’s robes.  
   
Severus had reverted to his teaching persona the moment they arrived at Hogwarts; he had donned his professor's robes as well. In addition to the familiar scent of potion ingredients, Harry could smell and feel the dampness of the dungeons. This visceral reminder of their horrid past made Harry afraid that he had really lost his husband, even though Severus was finally embracing him again.  
   
Yes, Harry was never going to let go.  
   
Then something happened that overwhelmed his fear of losing Severus. Harry didn't think twice about moving when he heard Hermione groan in pain. In all their years together, he had never heard her make such a noise. It seemed to come from a place deeper than her screams of anguish under Bellatrix's knife; it sounded like her very soul was being wrenched out.  
   
Hermione shoved Harry away when he tried to hold her.  
   
She spoke through gritted teeth, and there was no doubt that she was giving an order.  
   
"Get Ron. Now."  
   
Minerva was a blur as she grabbed floo powder, shouted "the Ministry of Magic," and popped away in a rush of flame. Harry had never heard her shout before. Everyone around him was crumbling.  
   
Everyone except Severus.  
   
Severus didn't touch Hermione or comment on her obvious pain. He didn't shout. He simply said, "It is time for us to go to the infirmary, Hermione. I'm sure your husband will join us there momentarily," and indicated the way with a slight bow.  
   
Harry was held back by his husband's firm hand on his chest. Hermione nodded at Severus and walked out of the Headmistress's office with her head held high. Severus followed her closely but did not fuss or rush.  
   
Harry was so proud of both of them that he felt like he would burst.  
   
When he started to follow his loved ones, that bursting feeling became disturbingly real. He felt like his stomach would drop out at the same time that he would vomit it up.  
   
 _I can’t believe I'm so nervous_ , he thought. _It's not like I'm having the baby_.  
   
This thought would haunt him for the rest of his life.  
   
~*~*~*~*~  
   
By the time they reached the infirmary, Harry could barely stand. Ron was already there; their journey through the castle had had taken longer than usual as Hermione’s contractions forced them to stop frequently while she rode through them.  
   
Harry was trailing behind, and no one looked at him until they got to the infirmary.  
   
Before Ron even made it to Hermione’s side, he said, "Harry, mate, you look like hell. I thought I was supposed to be the one getting sympathy pains."  
   
Poppy and Severus turned to look at Harry. Their eyes widened at the same time. It would have been hilarious if Harry wasn’t scared out of his mind.  
   
"My scans show that Hermione is eight centimeters dilated already, Severus. You'll have to help Harry. You know what to do."  
   
"Eight centimeters!” Ron forgot all about Harry in his shock. “Come on, Hermione. We talked about this. It doesn't do anyone any good to hide what's going on with you. I'm a big boy, I can take it, and you need to think of your needs as well..."  
   
Ron was settling Hermione onto a bed, and his voice was abruptly cut off by the silencing spell Poppy cast as she pulled the privacy curtains around Hermione’s bed.  
   
Harry winced as another wave of cramping hit him, but he tried to sound cheerful as he said to Severus, "Well, then. I feel a bit left out."  
   
Severus was not smiling. He looked as grim as Harry had ever seen him.  
   
"I am so sorry, Harry. I can't express how sorry I am."  
   
"Whoa!” Harry forced a laugh in spite of his rising anxiety. “Severus, I didn't really expect to be right there when Hermione actually had the baby. In fact, if I did it might put me off the whole idea anyway."  
   
That's when Harry felt the hot rush of liquid between his legs.


	20. Chapter Twenty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry wants to smash the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can only tell you that things will get better. I promise. Beta'd by the delicious carolinelamb, who stepped in for this chapter because she is not squicked by anything. I'll let that serve as an additional warning for the upsetting content of this chapter. Please skip it if it will be a trigger for you; the rest of the fic will make perfect sense without it.

“Harry, you have to trust me.”  
  
Of course he trusted Severus. How could Severus doubt him?  
  
Harry was bent in half by cramps, and apparently he was pissing himself, and he damn well didn’t appreciate being doubted.  
  
“Just because we had a fight, you think all of a sudden I don’t trust you?”  
  
“That’s not… Just listen. I am going to put you under. It will be better if you are relaxed for this. Time is of the essence. I will explain later.”  
  
“But how can I relax when I don’t know…”  
  
Severus murmured and waved his wand.  
  
Once again, Harry dropped into unconsciousness.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
It hurt.  
  
Harry felt like his insides had been scraped out with a rusty spoon.  
  
The sensations of pregnancy had developed so slowly that Harry had barely noticed the changes in his body. He thought he had just been lucky: no morning sickness, no cravings, no mood swings. Well, no more than usual, anyway.  
  
But even before he opened his eyes he knew he had not been lucky at all.  
  
Harry wanted to retreat back into unconsciousness. He wanted to wake up and find out that this was a nightmare. He wanted to hit his head again and feel nothing, nothing, nothing.  
  
He felt a cool hand on his forehead.  
  
“He has no fever, and his color is good. His body will recover quickly.”  
  
Who was Poppy talking to? If Severus did his nut over a little bump on the head, he surely wouldn’t stick around while _this_ happened.  
  
“It’s the recovery of everything else that worries me.”  
  
The voice was unmistakable. Harry squeezed his eyes closed more tightly and swallowed against the lump in his throat. Severus was still here.  
  
Harry must have voiced this thought aloud, because Severus grasped his hand tightly and said, “Of course I’m still here. I will never leave you again.”  
  
This time Harry really did cry.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
He was still crying when Minerva ushered him and Severus into her office a few hours later. He couldn’t stop. It was as though all the blood that Severus had magically siphoned out of him was coming out as tears instead.  
  
Severus treated Harry with the same respect he had afforded Hermione earlier. He didn’t comment on Harry’s tears or attempt to chivvy him out of crying. He simply conjured tissue after tissue and vanished the used ones without comment.  
  
Harry was grateful for the silence. He had nothing to say. He just held onto Severus’s hand as tightly as he could and didn’t let go.  
  
They hadn’t gone to see Hermione or her baby. Ron had tried to come to Harry, but Poppy had turned him away.  
  
Harry was glad. He couldn’t stand the thought of seeing anyone right then—especially anyone who had a baby who lived. He would have wanted to throw Ron out the window. Part of him wanted to find Hermione and throw her baby out of the window.  
  
He needed to get away from Hogwarts as soon as possible.  
  
As soon as the bleeding had stopped completely, he and Severus were to take a Portkey to the Malfoy estate in France.  
Harry didn’t care where he was going, as long as it was away. It was taking all of his strength to keep from smashing everything in sight.  
  
There was a leering ceramic sculpture of a frog on Minerva’s desk. It couldn’t be anything other than a Portkey; Harry had never seen anything quite so hideously Muggle at Hogwarts before.  
  
Its gaping maw was meant to be smiling, but its wall-eyes gave it a mad appearance that was anything but whimsical. The shining glaze that covered it looked like mucus in the flickering candlelight of the windowless room.  
  
To Harry, the frog looked like it wanted to eat the whole world.  
  
He closed his eyes before he and Severus grasped it, and it felt like any other piece of pottery. But Harry never again looked at a frog without feeling revolted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It may seem odd that such a big thing can happen with so few physical symptoms. I can only speak from my own experience, which is unfortunately extensive, of the pain of miscarriage. For me, the physical pain was never all that dramatic, which just made it all worse. Harry is meant to be early in his first trimester (6-8 weeks).


	21. Chapter Twenty-One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That's what family is for.

Harry hadn’t thought he could feel worse, but the sickening rush of the Floo journey and the sight of Draco Malfoy’s face made him realize that there was still farther to fall.  
  
Harry was shocked when he saw Draco seemed to get the hint immediately and left the room after a hasty greeting. Although, when he thought about it later, he realized that an understanding of social nuances was completely in character for Draco. Harry just wasn’t used to Draco using these skills for his benefit. Then he remembered how much he and Severus owed Lucius and Narcissa, and he decided to give Draco a chance.  
  
That was what Harry felt later. Right now, Harry wanted to beat those aristocratic features into a bloody pulp.  
  
Gabrielle Delacour spoke to him softly, but it just made Harry angrier. The kid-glove approach just made him feel even more of a victim. He would later discover that Gabrielle took on a soothing tone with everyone, and much later Harry would come to appreciate how useful it would prove in her marriage.  
  
But when Harry first set foot in the drawing room of the Malfoy’s chateau in the Loire Valley, there was only one person he wanted to see.  
  
Despite—or because of—his overwhelming feelings of anger and pain, Harry’s plea came out in a harsh, barely audible whisper.  
  
All he said was, “Ginny.”  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Severus had not shown the slightest sign of surprise at Harry’s request. He had quickly conferred with Gabrielle, and then he had led Harry upstairs to a suite of rooms.  
  
Harry was no longer crying; he wouldn’t cry in Malfoy’s house.  
  
But the bursting feeling in his chest didn’t go away until he was enveloped in a strong hug and a fall of red hair.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Severus had pulled the heavy curtains shut without Harry having to ask. The sun should not be shining; the sky should not be blue. Harry couldn’t bear it.  
  
Ginny’s hair was thicker than Severus’s, and it smelled so very different. The familiar scent of flowers brought Harry back, for a moment, to a time when all of his problems came from the outside. Even his scar and that hideous bit of Voldemort’s soul that had shared his life for so long had been thrust upon him.  
  
This death, he thought, is all mine.  
  
Harry didn’t say this out loud. He didn’t want to be comforted or to argue. The very last thing he Harry wanted was for Severus to try to protect him from the blame by pinning this on the concussion. Harry knew that the knock on his head had nothing to do with the miscarriage.  
  
Both Ginny and Severus seemed to understand that there was nothing they could say to him—not right then.  
  
Harry sighed and held onto Ginny for a long time. Her strength and her silence soothed him like nothing else could. Harry didn’t feel right about leaning completely on Severus now. It had been Severus’s baby, too. He shouldn’t have to shoulder all of Harry’s sorrow as well as his own.  
  
But Ginny would understand.  
  
She, too, had lost everything.  
  
Twice.


	22. Chapter Twenty-Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry wants Severus to make him feel real again.

Harry didn't know what time it was when Ginny left. The thick curtains that Severus had drawn across the windows were obviously charmed to block all light. His eyes had adjusted to the golden glow of candlelight and the fire, so it felt like night in the castle or anytime at all in the dungeons.

Ginny had briefly embraced Severus and told them that a meal would be delivered to them soon. Indeed, the moment she left the room a small table set for two appeared in front of the fireplace and the sideboard was covered with the elements of a light supper.

Harry was glad that the meal was served buffet style. He felt so helpless; even this small opportunity to choose the food on his plate was welcome.

He surprised himself by selecting a healthy amount of food. It was the most he'd felt like eating in weeks.

Actually, his body felt great.

The guilt that slammed into Harry at this realization stopped his fork halfway to his lips. Severus noticed that Harry had suddenly stopped eating, and he laid his own fork down.

Before Severus could say anything, Harry dropped his fork and jumped out of his chair. Severus blinked in surprise.

Harry felt desperate.

"Make love to me, Severus."

"I don't..."

"Please?"

"Are you sure this is the right time? You..."

"I don't want to talk about what happened. I don't want to talk at all. I want you to hold me down and fuck me and make me feel real again."

Severus needed no further prompting.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry didn't bother to pull back the dove-grey comforter before he sprawled face-down, nude on it. He knew their sweat and their spit and their spunk would leave highly visible dark patches on the unbelievably soft fabric.

He wanted to see it. He wanted to make marks, his and Severus's marks. They were real, they took up space and left traces and were in the world.

"Cover me."

Severus did. He lay down on top of Harry, his nude, bony and sparsely furred body pressing Harry down into the bed. Harry turned his face to the side so that he could breathe.

"Relax, Severus. Put your weight on me. I can take it; I want to feel you."

Severus obeyed instantly. Harry reveled in the feeling of being breathless, being squeezed between the soft bed and his rather pointy husband.

"Okay."

Harry's surrender came out a bit breathy, but Severus raised himself without comment. He settled himself between Harry's legs and began to run his hands down Harry's back, across his buttocks and down his flanks.

"No!"

Severus snatched his hands away as if Harry had burned him.

"Yes! I mean no! Please, Severus, please don't be gentle. I can't take it."

Harry rejoiced when it seemed that Severus had finally believed him. The trailing fingers became vise-like as they grasped Harry's hips and pulled them up and back. Then he was shoved forward, his hips held up by a firm mound of pillows. He sighed and relaxed his body completely, letting his limbs fall slack.

Severus rubbed his thumbs around the pucker of Harry's arse, spreading warm oil in the tight crease. He firmly pressed one thumb all the way inside, and Harry let out a groan.

Harry didn't have time to demand "More!"--Severus barely hesitated before slowly pressing his other thumb in beside the first. Then he began to move his thumbs in opposing circles, stretching the edges and the channel of Harry's arse quickly and firmly.

This time Harry's gasp was one of pain, but he only felt a new surge of the warm oil running down his crack and being worked into his arse by  
Severus's rough ministrations.

Harry was keening in time to the movements of Severus's hands--the thumbs stretching him with rough thrusts and slow circles, the long fingers squeezing and pulling the globes of his arse apart.

Just when Severus's abuse of his arse had pushed Harry to such a peak of tension that he thought he might come from this alone, Severus removed one of his hands. The other hand continued to work Harry's arse slowly. Harry couldn't help but push himself back onto that hand as it squeezed him, inside and out, to the rhythm of the squelching sound of Severus oiling up his own cock.

But Harry's mad attempt to impale himself on Severus's cock only resulted in a quick retreat of both both of Severus's hands, a sharp smack on the arse, and a firm hand on his lower back pressing him down on the mound of pillows again.

He let himself go limp again and was rewarded by the press of Severus's cock against his loosened hole. This time he didn't try to push back, he let himself be pushed and pulled by the firm hands on his hips.

Harry was already on edge from the delicious torture he had suffered at Severus's hands, so it took very little time for him to come untouched.

Severus stopped pumping his hips and pulled Harry towards him, pushing in as deeply and as hard as he could while Harry clenched and spurted and "ah"d his way through his climax.

When Harry went limp, Severus pushed him down and followed him with his own weight. He pinned Harry's body down with his own, and used his strong thighs to push Harry's legs impossibly wide. He only withdrew far enough to shove himself back in with force.

When Severus came, he let his entire weight rest on Harry. His cock was buried so deep inside Harry that the pressure of his wiry pubic hair made Harry want to squirm. But he held himself still, treasuring the feeling of being opened, plundered, and overcome.

Harry did enjoy being able to breathe deeply again when Severus eventually rolled off of him. But he didn't banish the cooling puddle underneath him, and he remained bonelessly sprawled on the now rather lumpy mound of pillows until he couldn't stand it anymore.

Then he rolled off of it, grabbed his wand for a quick "Nox" of the candles, and Accioed the extra down comforter from atop the chest at the foot of the bead. And there in the dark room, by the low glow of the fire, he wrapped himself around Severus and bundled them both up in a cocoon of warmth.


	23. Chapter Twenty-Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry isn't ready to laugh yet.

Even though the dinner conversation was making Harry extremely uncomfortable, he was glad to see Severus smiling again.

"There's nothing like suede," Ginny insisted.

Draco shook his head, his mouth a moue of disgust.

"It seems that you can take the girl out of the lower class, but you can't take the lower class out of the girl."

Ginny turned an unpleasant shade of pink and swatted Draco's hand. Harry was amazed that she could remain so calm in the face of such obvious Weasley-baiting. He still half expected Ron to storm into the room and roar, or Hermione to appear and punch Draco in the face.

But this kind of interplay was apparently standard operating procedure for the two of them. The similarity of Ginny and Draco's interactions to Ron and Hermione's constant quarreling was not lost on Harry. Gabrielle just looked on indulgently, shaking her head.

Draco shook his hand in an exaggerated show of pain.

"You'd better watch it, Ginny. If we are too naughty Gabrielle will pull out the flogger tonight, and I don't mean that suede toy you fancy."

Harry flushed violently, and his eyes snapped towards Gabrielle. He expected her to protest, or to laugh, but instead her mouth quirked in a playful grin, and she raised an eyebrow. Harry was sure he had seen that exact expression on Severus's face during an intimate moment or two.

Harry tried to cover the sound of his fork clattering to his plate with an utterly artificial-sounding cough. This, of course, ensured that the entire party turned towards him.

Draco snickered unapologetically, Ginny smirked through her slight blush, Severus looked thoughtful, and Gabrielle gracefully turned the conversation to a less confusing topic.

At least it was less confusing to Harry. It was patently obvious to him everyone else at the table knew exactly what they were talking about. He decided that the shell on his creme brûlée needed to be cracked just so, and he turned his attention exclusively to attaining this goal.

~*~*~*~*~

But it was Harry who brought up the conversation later.

Severus had made love to him in the careful way that he had adopted since the miscarriage. It was really starting to irritate Harry. He was not accustomed to this mealy-mouthed approach to things, and he didn't like it. But how to break that news to Severus? Harry remembered very well how badly his husband responded to criticism.

Afterwards, as he leaned back against his husband's chest feeling unsatisfied despite his dutiful orgasm, Harry decided to avoid the elephant in the room by focusing on other peoples' sexual activities. Despite his earlier embarrassment, it was easier to discuss the subject of Draco and Ginny and Gabrielle and whips than it was to broach the topic of their own sexual slump.

"Do you think that Gabrielle really whips Ginny?"

Harry was having a hard time picturing the gentle young French girl in the typical pose adopted by the "Dungeon Mistresses" whose ads he had seen stuck all over the inside of Muggle public phone booths.

"A flogging, in this context, is not what you would think of as a whipping."

Harry shook his head in amazement. Severus was always a teacher, even now.

"Fine. Do you think that Gabrielle really _flogs_ Ginny?"

"It certainly seems to be so. I know that Draco enjoys a good flogging, so I wouldn't be surprised if he has shared the pleasure with his current lovers. Besides, how else would she keep those two properly in line?"

Harry had sat up straight in shock at Severus's casual mention of Draco's sexual preferences, and the joking tone of his husband's final sentence had not mollified him. He found himself scrambling away from Severus, clutching the sheet against his chest like a soap opera heroine.

Severus clearly didn't understand what had Harry so upset, but he adopted a defensive attitude nonetheless.

"I didn't mean to offend your sensibilities, Harry. If you would be so good as to remember that _you_ were the one who brought up this topic, I would appreciate it. I hardly think I am at fault here."

Harry, who was sputtering with outrage, ignored Severus's wounded tone.

"'Draco enjoys a good flogging'?!"

Harry realized that he was now shrieking like a soap opera heroine. This was becoming unbearably embarrassing, but Harry could not hide his distress.

"Are you surprised?"

Severus looked genuinely puzzled.

"I assure you, I have no idea what you Gryffindors got up to in school, nor do I care to know, but Slytherins have never been averse to adding some piquancy to their pleasure."

Harry realized that Severus must really be upset to bring Hogwarts Houses into the conversation. But Harry was more upset.

"Well, I wasn't aware that the Slytherin Head of House was accustomed to taking his students to bed!"

"What are you talking about, Harry? Are you still suffering from hormonal surges?"

Harry felt tears pricking his eyes, and his voice was gravelly when he responded to this low blow.

"Yes, that's it. I'm just a hormonal, prudish _girl_. Maybe you should just join the others; I'm sure Draco would appreciate another dose of your bloody _flogging_!"

Severus's mouth opened, and Harry was certain that he was going to commence upon a lecture about how proper flogging methods did not involve the drawing of blood. He was stunned to see that Severus was actually gobsmacked.

The shock of seeing his husband at a loss for words stopped Harry mid-flight. He was on the opposite side of the large bed from Severus, but he had not yet tipped himself over the edge onto the floor.

They stared at each other for several long seconds.

Then Severus started to laugh.

He laughed so hard that his eyes were squeezed shut, and he couldn't see what was coming, which made it all the sweeter when Harry punched the inconsiderate wanker in the nose.


	24. Chapter Twenty-Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Young adult angst is mocked. With love.

Harry had thought staying at the Malfoy chateaux was awkward before. Now it was well-nigh unbearable.  
  
Draco hadn't needed much of a push to revert back to their schoolboy rivalry. It had never been Draco's choice, Harry knew, to shelter The Boy Who Lived to Make Draco's Life Difficult. The near-miraculous rapport Harry had developed with the senior Malfoys had nothing to do with Draco.  
  
Or maybe it did.  
  
Harry knew jealousy; he knew it well. He had felt that wildness clawing at his chest from the inside, trying to come out in violence or cruel words. When they were young, he had never understood that much of Draco's hatred for him was born of jealousy. How could the Prince of Slytherin, with his two parents and his mansion and his mounds of gold, ever be jealous of him?  
  
Harry still didn't really understand how _anyone_ could be jealous of his time at Hogwarts. He had been crazed by danger and loneliness and confusion, not to mention the constant pressure to live up to unclear, impossible standards of heroism.  
  
Frankly, it made him a bit shuddery to even think of those days.  
  
But now . . .  
  
Now he could actually understand why Draco might feel threatened. Harry was married to Draco's saviour, with whom he lived in a house that should have been left to Draco's mother, and said house had even been decorated by Narcissa. Harry had been very publicly politically and socially connected to Lucius for the last year or so. And now, Harry guessed, Lucius and Narcissa had ordered Draco to play host to Harry, without so much as a by-your-leave.  
  
All things considered, Draco had quite a lot to resent. But, while he was being a royal prat, Draco hadn't punched anyone, which was more than Harry could say.  
  
Harry winced at the thought, but it was hard to deny that he was a monster when he was jealous. The whole leap-before-you-look Gryffindor thing that had served him so well in battle was worse than useless off the battlefield.  
  
He was afraid that he'd really lost Severus this time.  
  
Harry didn't cry at this thought; he was exercising all of his late-to-arrive self-control in an effort to deny that he was under the influence of hormones. It would have been lovely to blame those mysterious forces for what he had done. But Harry knew that he had to take full responsibility for the damage he had wrought to Severus's nose and to his trust.  
  
Harry was surprised that Draco's behaving like a bastard was the easiest thing to take about the whole situation. Harry knew that he deserved to be punished, so he welcomed Draco's best shots. In fact, he would have been grateful if Draco had simply broken Harry's nose again, as he had in the Hogwarts Express those years ago. It would be less painful than the silent condemnation of the others.  
  
The shame that burned through Harry every time Gabrielle turned her sad and disapproving glance at him was overshadowed only by Severus's complete denial of Harry's very existence. No Invisibilty Cloak could have erased Harry more thoroughly. At least he could still be heard under the cloak. This had seemed a terrible disadvantage in the past, but, in retrospect, it had been highly comforting to have that tangible evidence that he still existed. Severus was annihilating every hint of Harry.  
  
Severus still wore his wedding band, but it worked less as a promise than as a reminder of what Harry had destroyed. The circle of gold no longer seemed like a symbol of connection and wholeness; it spoke of resignation and unwilling bondage.  
  
Harry felt like he had handcuffed Severus to a monster and expected him to like it.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Ginny didn't exactly laugh at him, but Harry could see that laughter sparkling just behind her kind eyes.  
  
"I sound ridiculous, don't I?"  
  
Ginny kept her voice perfectly level as she said, "Just a little bit."  
  
Harry closed his eyes in exhaustion. They burned behind his lids. He resisted the urge to rub them.  
  
"Honestly, Gin, I don't understand him at all."  
  
"No, I suppose you wouldn't."  
  
Harry's eyes snapped open, but Ginny's face was thoughtful, not mocking.  
  
"What do you mean by that? Am I particularly dim or something?"  
  
Ginny smiled and shook her head.  
  
"No, Harry. You just can't see, or you refuse to see, that other people's motives aren't the same as yours."  
  
Harry frowned. That sounded an awful lot like "stupid" to him.  
  
Ginny sighed.  
  
"Alright. I didn't want to do this. I'm only doing it because I love you so much."  
  
Harry blanched.  
  
Ginny smacked him on the leg.  
  
"Not like that, you berk! As if I'd go back to you when I have two hot blondes just gagging for it night and day. I was just saying that when we were together, I was being an immature, selfish brat, and you couldn't even see it. You assume that the people you love could never be completely fucked-up."  
  
Ginny's crudeness, a side of herself which she only took out to deal with her brothers, made Harry feel at home. For the first time since he had popped Severus in the nose, he smiled.  
  
Ginny poked him again.  
  
"That's enough of that, Mister. We are talking about _you_."  
  
"I thought we were talking about Severus."  
  
Harry scooted away from Ginny quickly, as she looked to be gearing up for another smack. He was suddenly grateful that he wasn't actually one of her brothers; she surely would have hexed Ron or George by this point.  
  
Once Harry was out of range, Ginny's face became thoughtful again.  
  
"It's so strange to think of him as 'Severus.' You never really knew him when we were all at Hogwarts, did you?"  
  
"I spent enough detentions with him to feel quite familiar with him and his bastardly ways."  
  
"But you weren't there that year . . ."  
  
Harry's lips twisted, and he wanted to shout at her. But he clamped down on his anger. All he needed was to attack another of his housemates and supposed loved ones. But he was more than tired of being blamed for "taking off" that last year. It wasn't as though he was on a bloody _holiday_ . . .  
  
Ginny scooted closer to him and lay a gentle hand on his leg, which was honestly still a bit sore from her less-than-gentle slap.  
  
"Harry, I'm not trying to have that argument again. I'm talking about Professor . . . I'm talking about Severus."  
  
"What about him?"  
  
Harry's patience was running very thin.  
  
Ginny looked into his eyes, and said with perfect sincerity, "If you were to ask him, I'm pretty sure that you would find that he _wanted_ you to punch him."


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus throws Harry for a loop.

In some ways, Harry felt much better after talking to Ginny. But he was more confused than ever on other topics. Like why in the hell would anyone, let alone Severus, want to be punched in the face?  
  
Ginny had refused to explain her comment. She insisted, with maddeningly good sense, that the only way Harry would find out what Severus was thinking was to ask the man himself.  
  
It made Harry cringe to even think it, but she was right.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Harry couldn't face another awkward dinner, so he asked the house elves to bring a light supper to his and Severus's suite. He would corner his husband when he came up from his lab to change his clothes. _If_  he ever came up from the lab. Malfoy Manor, of course, had a potions workshop that put even the Hogwarts' labs to shame. In fact, Harry was honestly more worried that he would lose Severus to the seductive thrall of the Malfoys' research facilities than he was that Severus might develop a taste for blondes.  
  
Severus threw open the door to their suite, interrupting Harry's vague imaginings of an erotic dance of vials and cauldrons.  
  
Severus froze in the doorway when he saw Harry sitting on the bed.  
  
Harry took a deep breath and plunged.  
  
"I'm sorry I hit you."  
  
Harry held his breath while watched Severus's face. The signs of Severus's moods were clear, but subtle. Harry didn't want to misread his husband . . . again.  
  
To Harry's relief, Severus wasn't hard to read this time.  
  
Severus smiled ruefully as he replied, "Well, I certainly did deserve it."  
  
Harry's astonishment increased as Severus continued, "And I must admit, I was wondering when you were going to draw the line."  
  
 _'The line'_? Harry's mind was whirling. Wasn't the point of marriage to erase lines? Wasn't he supposed to become one with his husband?  
  
Harry couldn't find the words to express his confusion and outrage, but luckily Severus was very, very good at reading other people's thoughts from their facial expressions.  
  
Severus walked slowly towards Harry, his hands held slightly open as a sign of peaceful intentions.  
  
"I have come to love you, Harry, and I am fairly certain that you have come to love me. But we aren't the same; we never will be the same. And we shouldn't be."  
  
Severus was sitting next to Harry on their bed now, and the door snicked closed. Severus slowly put his arms around Harry, and he held him close to his chest until Harry's body finally relaxed.  
  
Harry decided not to think for the moment, but just to relax into the moment and let Severus drown him in sensation.  
  
But Severus didn't take charge. Once Harry relaxed, Severus released him and sat back. Harry waited, but Severus only looked at him.  
  
Harry worried his lower lip.  
  
Severus sat.  
  
Harry was getting twitchy—partially from nerves, but more and more of the squirminess was the result of an uncomfortable tightness in his trousers.  
  
Still, Severus did nothing.  
  
Harry couldn't take it anymore.  
  
"Well? Aren't you going to . . . do something?"  
  
Severus's face was unreadable as he said, "I rather think it is your turn."


	26. Chapter Twenty-Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry wants to crush Severus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Rough, probably impossibly acrobatic sex. Don't try this at home. Wizards have healing spells they can use if things go pear-shaped.

For a moment Harry considered pretending he didn't know what Severus was talking about. But . . .  
  
It wasn't just that the blushing (relative) virgin act would be frankly ridiculous at this point. Harry _did_ want to take a turn as the aggressor in bed. He did.  
  
He just had no idea how to begin.  
  
Harry had always followed the leader in bed. He was perfectly capable of being a leader, obviously, but in this he didn't want to. Hadn't wanted to. Responding was natural, far more so with Severus than it had been with Ginny. But Harry had a long history of insecurity when it came to personal relationships. The only person he'd been able to depend on, no matter what, was Hermione.  
  
For an only child, Harry sure had a lot of sisters.  
  
More than half of Harry wanted to wait Severus out. Surely, if he hesitated long enough, Severus would either ravish him or give up.  
  
Harry didn't want Severus to give up.  
  
So he reached up, took hold of Severus's shoulders, and pushed him back until he was resting against the pillows piled up in front of the headboard. The posh necessity for dozens of variously shaped pillows on every bed had proved useful before, and Harry had gotten some very good ideas about how to put the extra cushions to use.  
  
Severus didn't resist when Harry laid him back, but he didn't completely surrender either. Clearly he still needed some persuading, or maybe he just didn't react to seduction the way Harry did. Come to think of it, flopping back bonelessly didn't seem to be in Severus's repertoire.  
  
Strangely enough, Severus's unyielding posture only heightened Harry's desire. The Gryffindor side of him relished a challenge, and this Severus reminded him of Professor Snape and his classroom manner. How often had he wanted to crush the cruel Potions teacher?  
  
Punching him in the nose hadn't felt good. But there were other ways to crush someone.  
  
Harry wanted to make Severus feel the way Harry did when Severus fucked him: wild, abandoned, desperate. But Severus only exploded with passion when he was angry; even in their most fevered encounters, he always seemed to be in control. It was maddening, when Harry thought about it this way.  
  
It certainly _was_ his turn.  
  
"Are you going to do something, or are you going to think me to death?"  
  
It wasn't quite the drawl of the classroom, but it was close enough.  
  
Harry grabbed the nape of Severus's neck and pulled him up until they were nose to nose. At this range he could see the broken capillaries that even an _Episky_ couldn't spell away. This evidence of Severus's fallibility made Harry even more ferocious.  
  
"I'm going to do lots of things."  
  
Harry pushed Severus face-down on the bed. He was gentle--it wouldn't do to break that nose again--but he was forceful. As soon as Severus was bent down far enough, Harry straddled his back to ensure that he wouldn't try to escape.  
  
He bent down, bit Severus's neck, then pulled away to whisper in his ear, "I'm going to eat you alive."  
  
Harry scooted back, pulling Severus's trousers and pants down with him. Despite his buttoned-up public persona, under his robes Severus always wore delightfully low-slung trousers that seemed designed to fall off at the slightest provocation.  
  
Harry pulled the trousers off completely, but left the pants around Severus's ankles. A few twists and Severus was effectively hobbled. Harry hadn't spent over a decade of being friends with the Weasley twins for nothing.  
  
Before Severus could even begin to struggle against these impromptu bonds, Harry had hauled his hips up and shoved a handy pillow underneath his hips. He pushed Severus's knees as far apart as they could go and wiggled his way in between them. Severus's long legs gave Harry plenty of room to maneuver between them, even tied as they were. Harry took advantage of the space to bend down and lick the back of Severus's balls.  
  
That made Severus twitch. And that made Harry want to make him writhe.  
  
Instead of spreading Severus's cheeks apart and diving in tongue first, Harry squeezed them together and licked up and down the tight crack again and again. Now Severus really was squirming, and he pushed his arse up in the air to get closer to Harry's tongue.  
  
Harry crawled off of Severus and grabbed the lube from the bedside table. Upon the sudden loss of pressure, Severus's arse lifted almost comically high into the air and wiggled. Harry stifled his laugh; his goal was to drive Severus wild, but angering the man would lead to the wrong kind of madness.  
  
He grabbed Severus around the waist and hoisted him up to shove more pillows under his hips. Severus couldn't do much with his legs, hobbled as he was, but his clenched fists showed the effort it took to let Harry manhandle him so. Harry was glad. He was doing things his way, and he didn't do smooth or gentle or even kind. Not when he was feeling this fierce.  
  
Harry let Severus drop down onto the cushions and shoved his knees apart again. Severus was panting now; Harry couldn't tell if it was from passion or from barely-controlled anger. Either would do.  
  
Harry drenched his hands in lube and pressed two fingers down Severus's crack until he felt the small pucker. He massaged the tight muscle for a moment, then slowly pushed both fingers in. Severus was tight, but he didn't cry out or flinch. Instead, he let out a low moan and pushed back.  
  
Harry felt like he was on fire. Severus was his, and he was going to have him. He was going to climb inside of him.  
  
Harry added another finger, and he twisted all three in more deeply. The rush of power he was riding made him feel like he could keep going, like he could push all the way in. But Severus was whimpering even as he pushed back against Harry's hand, and Harry didn't want to break him. He _would_ get inside, though.  
  
It was a moment's work to slick up his cock, and before Harry knew it he was entering incredible tightness and heat. It was like being inside Ginny, but it was infinitely better. Instead of being welcomed by Severus's body, it felt like he was meeting an opposing force. He and Severus both thrust against each other, one in and one back, and when they came together it was violent in its intensity.  
  
Severus was on his hands and knees now; his thighs were straining with the effort of fighting the bonds on his ankles, and his arsecheeks squeezed around the base of Harry's prick like a vise. Harry grabbed Severus around the chest again and pulled him up onto his knees. He thrust his cock up over and over, feeling like he was splitting rocks with every plunge.  
  
Severus babbled incoherently. He had made Harry scream on more than one occasion, but he had never lost control of his own voice before. When Harry reached around and roughly fisted Severus's prick in counterpoint to his punishing thrusts, Severus came with a keening wail.  
  
The pulsing of Severus's channel around his cock sent Harry beyond pleasure into pain. He thought his prick might actually break off when he came, and the fit was so tight that his come spattered back as much as it filled Severus.  
  
Harry collapsed as Severus untangled his pants from around his own ankles. Despite their temporary reversal of roles, Severus curled Harry into his chest the way he always did. Harry was aching, and he could only imagine how Severus felt. He'd probably hurt him far more than he had when he had broken his nose.  
  
As Severus cradled him, Harry marveled at his husband's strength. Harry had thought Severus strong when he defended and cared for Harry, but this willingness to let Harry do with him what he would showed a level of trust and bravery that amazed Harry.  
  
Harry whispered "I love you" as Severus shushed him to sleep.


	27. Chapter Twenty-Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco steps over the line.

Draco didn’t take the piss the next morning.  
  
Harry barely ate at breakfast, despite having worked up quite the appetite the night before. He was too anxious about Draco’s mockery, or Ginny’s innuendos, or Gabrielle’s . . . well, he wasn’t sure what he expected from her. She took just about everything in stride.  
  
But no one seemed to notice anything. Harry felt like there should be a big sign above his head, blinking in red letters (all capitalized) that spelled out: “I buggered Severus Snape.”  
  
But apparently no one could tell.   
  
Harry was trying to figure out why he was a bit disappointed that no one was making a fuss when Severus poked him in the ribs. He just about managed not to squeak aloud.  
  
“As I was saying,” Draco said in his most snobbish voice, “I think it would do you both a world of good to take a tour of the spa.”  
  
The spa? Harry thought.  
  
Severus read his mind. It was damn irritating, that. Seemed like last night hadn’t changed things all that much.  
  
“Yes, Harry. The spa. How did you think our lovely host and hostesses paid for all this luxury?”  
  
With Daddy’s money?   
  
Severus was clearly still reading Harry’s mind, because he definitely snorted. And he was almost definitely not snorting at Harry’s ignorance. Most likely. Well, it was possible, right?  
  
Draco and Severus both stopped waiting for an answer from Harry. Instead, they began discussing him like he was an invalid . . . or an infant.  
  
“He certainly shouldn’t take the waters, not so soon after . . .”  
  
Surely even Draco wasn’t enough of a prat to talk about Harry’s miscarriage.  
  
“Of course not. But I think that an immersion would be beneficial.”  
  
An immersion in what? What was Severus planning on doing, dunking him in a cauldron?  
  
“What about the chance of infection? A woman who has gone through such a thing wouldn’t be allowed to . . .”  
  
“Oi! I’m not a woman, thanks!”  
  
Draco and Severus both turned to look at him. For a moment Harry was a bit anxious he had perhaps somehow turned into a woman in the last few minutes, but he rallied.  
  
“Immersion in what? Taking what waters? What the bloody hell is a spa?”  
  
Draco’s and Severus’s simultaneous sniffs almost made Harry feel bad about his crude language. Almost.  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
Apparently a spa was a bit like the prefects’ bathroom at Hogwarts with a lot of ugly statuary thrown into the mix.  
  
In fact . . .  
  
“Hey! That statue is of me!”  
  
Harry couldn’t believe his eyes.  
  
“Surely you have gotten past the delusion that everything in the world revolves around you . . .”  
  
Severus spoke in a chiding tone, as though Harry was a child. Seems being buggered didn’t help his mood much.  
  
There is definitely going to be payback for this tonight, Harry thought.   
  
But before he could even properly begin to imagine how he would extract revenge upon Severus’s person, Harry was startled by Severus’s yelp.  
  
He had never heard Severus yelp before. Not even last night when he . . .  
  
But Harry’s memories, like his fantasies, were swept away by his shock at the sight of the fountain before them.   
  
Two stone mermen supported themselves on rocks at opposite ends of a long pond. They each blew water out of a conch shell at the other. The thing was silly, but unremarkable. Or it would have been, if one of the mermen wasn’t a dead ringer for Harry Potter, and the other wasn’t the fishy twin of Severus Snape.  
  
Draco was actually blushing.  
  
“Yes, well, the fountain is based on the ‘Spit and Spat’ fountain at Congress Park in Saratoga Springs. Since the spa is named ‘Saratoga,’ it seemed fitting . . .”  
  
“It seemed fitting to mock your father’s oldest friend?”  
  
Severus’s voice was cold, colder than the stone that had offended him so.  
  
“My father’s friend? But I thought . . .”  
  
“Apparently you did not think at all.”  
  
And Severus was gone.   
  
Draco turned to Harry with a vulnerable look. Harry would have thought he’d pay any amount of galleons to see such a look on that face, but he found he didn’t like it one bit. Sure, the fountain was rude, but it was also sort of funny. He and Severus certainly had spent a lot of time, years and years, actually, spitting at each other – figuratively at least. He had no earthly idea why Severus was so upset.  
  
Harry found himself comforting Draco Malfoy, but he didn’t have time to be surprised. He was too busy worrying about his husband.  
  
[](http://www.jcparkerfineart.com/spit_spat.htm)


	28. Chapter Twenty-Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Growing up?

Severus was locked in his room. Harry couldn’t think of it as “their” room, not after this morning.  
  
He had really thought that Severus had wanted him to . . .  
  
Well. Now Harry felt like a rapist. It wasn’t pleasant. He wanted to lock himself in a room as well, but he had had a little practice at being a husband now, and he had cottoned on to the fact that both partners shouldn’t throw a wobbly at the same time. Not that Severus was having a tantrum, of course.  
  
But wasn’t he, a bit?  
  
After all, Severus was the one . . .  
  
Harry would never know how many significant glances, or, horrors, actual conversation had taken place between the triad before they decided what to do about this cock-up— _pun intended_ , Harry thought later.  
  
In the end— _would his mind never get out of the bog?_ —Gabrielle took care of Draco while Ginny was assigned to Harry.  
  
The parlor wasn’t the best place for such a discussion, but Harry was still surprised when Ginny led him into a bedroom. At first, honestly, he thought there would be _more_ sex, because everything seemed to be descending into chaos, but then he remembered that Ginny was his sister.  
  
Severus had said it, so it was true.  
  
Indeed, the bedroom they entered was a bit similar to Ginny’s room at the Burrow. There were quidditch posters and photos from Hogwarts, a broom stood ready in the corner, and there was definitely a floral theme.  
  
But instead of a poky single mattress, there was a large bed with a very comfortable looking duvet. And instead of having to sit on the poky little mattress, which had always led to the kind of proximity that Harry did _not_ want, and might _never_ want again at this rate, there were two overstuffed armchairs with a tea table between them.  
  
Harry was caught off his guard by the whole ensemble.  
  
“You have your own room? But I thought . . .”  
  
Ginny smirked at him.  
  
“You thought that Gabrielle and Draco and I all slept together every night? Perhaps in a dungeon with red silk sheets?”  
  
Harry mumbled, “Something like.”  
  
Ginny shook her head at him in an uncanny echo of Molly and sighed, “Oh, Harry.”  
  
That pushed him over the edge.  
  
“’Oh Harry’ what? What am I supposed to think, what with you talking about whips, oh, sorry, I mean _floggers_ , over breakfast and Severus ordering me to fuck him and then acting like I’d _molested_ him and . . .”  
  
“Severus asked you to top?”  
  
Harry didn’t appreciate being interrupted mid-rant, but Ginny’s tone was not horrified or condemning, it was simply curious.  
  
“He said it was ‘my turn,’ and he goaded me into taking charge.”  
  
Ginny laughed.  
  
“Figures he’d be a pushy bottom.”  
  
Harry goggled at her.  
  
“Who are you? What happened to little Ginny Weasley, the girl who didn’t even want me to see her in her nightgown?”  
  
Ginny’s face darkened.  
  
“A lot of things happened, and only very recently have they been good things.”  
  
She paused a moment, then her face softened.  
  
“But we aren’t reminiscing about my failed marriage right now. I was hoping that you would tell me what went wrong with Severus.”  
  
“I just told you! Weren’t you listening? I buggered Severus Snape.”  
  
There. He’d said it. He could sink no lower.  
  
Ginny frowned.  
  
“Yes, and I’m sure we’re all very proud of you, Harry. But we can have the cake later. I was hoping we could move beyond bragging and figure out what was bothering your husband.”  
  
Harry’s head was whirling again. Bragging? About raping someone?  
  
He was so on edge that the “pop” of the tea tray made him pull his wand.  
  
True to her nature, and her childhood spent amongst six older brothers, Ginny didn’t blink an eye.  
  
“Let’s have some tea while we sort this out.”  
  
~~~~~  
  
Turned out Ginny refused to believe that the sex was the problem. In an irritatingly reasonable manner, she pointed out that Severus was more than capable of defending himself. She added that he didn’t seem the sort to grin and bear it, either. That was certainly true enough.  
  
But Harry refused to believe that it was just the fountain that had enraged him.  
  
“After all, we made fun of him often enough in school. You’d think he was used to it.”  
  
Now Ginny’s lips were pursed in annoyed moue. She really was turning into her mother. Harry had a brief flash of Molly Weasley wielding a flogger, and he shuddered a bit.  
  
“Just like you got used to being told you ‘stink,’ and that you were really the heir of Slytherin and had murdered me and petrified Hermione, and you just laughed off the way Ron pissed off and left you and Hermione in the lurch?”  
  
Ginny had clearly learned more than he suspected in the months they had been apart, for she simply took a sip or two of tea while she waited for him to catch up. Her maturity first angered Harry— _why does she get to be all grown up?_ —and then pacified him.  
  
He decided that a few sips of tea wouldn’t go amiss, and maybe some of the chocolate biscuits. Ginny continued to let him think it through, and that was when he really did love her. As a sister.  
  
In their short time together, he had figured out that Severus had feelings. But now Harry realized that he had only ever considered Severus’s feelings about _him_. Even his current conviction that it was the mere fact of letting Harry top would throw Severus into despair was all about him. He really was a self-centered, egotistical prat.  
  
“Hey now, chocolate is supposed to make you feel better, not worse.”  
  
Harry was on the brink of sharing his self-hating diatribe, when he realized that would once again make it all about him.  
  
Maybe he could grow up, too. Eventually.  
  
He brushed his self-pity off with a little white lie that was, after all, the truth.  
  
“I’m just worried about Severus. I love him and I want him to be happy.”  
  
Ginny finally gave him that open smile, the one he hadn’t seen from her in years.


	29. Chapter Twenty-Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything changes. Again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have posted all previously existing chapters, and now I am posting "live". So instead of posting several times a week, I'll be posting once a week.

Once Harry had realized that his prick wasn’t the problem, and Draco had been convinced that while he had been a knob, the fountain probably wasn’t enough to send Severus running, the thing was to figure out just what _was_ wrong.

Gabrielle let Draco, Ginny, and Harry argue until the tray of light sandwiches from their late lunch or early tea or . . . well, who knew what time it was, they only knew that Severus had been in his room for _too long_.

Then Harry was knocked flat yet again by her calm, insightful contribution to the debate. He was beginning to feel a bit like he was living with a French version of Luna Lovegood.

She pointed out that they would not know what Severus needed until they asked him. Harry, as his husband, was naturally the best choice to do so, and the rest of them would do well to get back to their usual business.

Harry was sorely tempted to make _her_ go and talk to Severus, if she was going to be so damn sensible about everything, but he knew he had to be the one to enter the wounded dragon’s lair.

Except for the fact that he wasn’t reduced to burnt toast for rations, it felt horribly like the first, tense days of their marriage.

He was more right than he knew, because everything was about to change. Again.

~~~~

Harry was so surprised by the fact that the door to Severus’s, to _their_ , bedroom wasn’t locked or warded that he almost dropped the tray Gabrielle had forced on him. He hadn’t even thought about the fact that Severus would be hungry and thirsty. Yet another way in which he was pants at this whole marriage thing.

He retained his grip on the tray and hovered in the doorway. It was dark and quiet within. Harry would have given anything to hear one of Severus’s barbed welcomes.

_Are you going to stand there letting the light in until my head explodes, or may I enjoy my migraine in peace?_

_Even a house elf knows what to do with a tray of food, Harry._

_Thank you . . ._

No. He couldn’t even imagine that last one.

Eventually Harry realized that no invitation, sarcastic or not, was going to be offered. But the door had been unlocked. That had to mean something.

Harry held his breath, like he was going to once again dive into the Black Lake, and stepped across the threshold.

Once the door closed behind him, his eyes adjusted to the light and he could see his way to the table to put the tray down. The room wasn’t as dark as it had been during his convalescence and mourning, but the darkness was somehow colder than it had been then. The bleak quality of the light hurt Harry’s heart, so he did what it dictated.

He climbed into bed with his husband and he gathered him, as well as he could gather such long and gangly limbs, into his arms. When he brushed a hand over Severus’s check, he found it wet with tears.

For once in his life, Harry didn’t put his foot in it. He just held Severus until he stopped shaking.

~~~

Severus did eventually rouse himself enough to drink some tea, but he flat out refused the sandwiches. Harry didn’t push the issue, he was just glad that Severus was allowing him to stay with him through this, whatever it was.

Harry ended up eating them himself, before the two of them crawled back into bed and slept until morning. He figured that talking was overrated, anyhow.

~~~  
  
Harry had become accustomed to Gabrielle being "Mother." It wasn't just at tea time; she was clearly the axis around whom both Draco and Ginny revolved, and she was becoming an increasingly comforting and necessary presence in his world as well.  
   
It was surprising how quickly everyone forgot how young she was. Harry supposed it was her Veela nature that made her seem so . . . womanly. A fifteen-year-old shouldn't have to be in charge of two adults, let alone four. But then, Harry supposed, a seventeen-year-old shouldn't have to sacrifice himself for the entire Wizarding world.  
   
And it wasn't as though Gabrielle seemed to mind her role.  
   
Still, it was a surprise when she practically tackled him the next morning at breakfast.  
   
Severus had come down to join them, but he had immediately run out of the room without even excusing himself. Harry was focusing on getting a particularly slippery bit of tomato into his mouth, and he didn't see whatever it was that had led to Severus's abrupt departure. He had just managed to pop the bite into his mouth and was opening his mouth to inquire when Gabrielle launched herself at him.  
   
She kissed both of his cheeks enthusiastically.  He swallowed with difficulty and restrained himself from shoving her away. Surely there was some reason that she was assaulting him in front of her lovers.  
   
In less than a moment, she revealed the source of her excitement.  
   
"Severus _est enceinte_!"  
   
Ginny began to laugh.  
   
Harry had no idea what the girls were on about.  
   
Draco sighed and shook his head.  
   
"You're going to be a father, Potter."  
   
"But I'm not even pregnant!"  
   
Draco rolled his eyes.  
   
"Obviously."  
   
Harry didn't really figure it out until Severus told him. 


	30. Chapter Thirty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new direction.

“We can’t stay here.”

Severus’s voice was flat.

Harry actually agreed, but he was taken aback by Severus’s blunt statement. Wasn’t Draco Severus’s . . . friend? Or something?

Severus saw Harry’s shock and immediately became defensive.

“I know that you have benefited from your rapprochement with Ginevra, and it has made me glad.”

If you’re glad, why do you sound so pissed off? Harry wondered. 

But he waited to see if he could figure out what rapprochement meant before he interrupted Severus. There had been enough crossed wires for a lifetime between the two of them after their bonding, not to mention the nightmare of their interactions before that.

“But I simply cannot bear to go through this with the constant mockery of a Slytherin, the knowing looks of a Gryffindor, and the simpering care of a . . . Veela.”

She’s only a quarter Veela, was Harry’s automatic response. 

I was just that the Weasleys had spent enough time debating Fleur’s attractiveness to Bill. He had been sympathetic with the faction that had tried to convince Molly that Fleur wasn’t a ruthless Veela who had Molly’s eldest son firmly in her claws. 

But Harry knew that when Severus resorted to referring to Hogwarts houses he was distraught, and so he ignored his urge to correct Severus.

“I don’t think our friends mean to mock you.”

Harry was so focused on comforting his husband that he didn’t even notice that he had just referred to Draco as a friend.

“That imbecilic, petty travesty of a garden decoration would seem to show that they indeed are.”

Harry didn’t want to tell Severus that he had found the fountain quite funny, so he changed tactics. If comfort wouldn’t help, he’d see how diversion worked.

“Are you pregnant, then?”

Severus blanched and ran for the loo. Again.

That answers that question. Now what are we going to do about it?

~*~*~*~*~*~

After convincing Severus to stay in bed for a bit and try some dry toast, a feat which Harry believed should have earned him a second Order of Merlin, Harry went into an unused sitting room and made a Floo call.

~*~*~*~*~*~

It turned out that Harry was still the godfather of Hermione and Ron’s daughter. He was tempted to back out of his agreement, but he reminded himself that the baby had nothing to do with his own loss. It hurt to know that Rose would always be a living reminder of what he had lost, but that would be true regardless. At least this way he salvaged the possibility of staying close with Ron and Hermione in the years to come.

But there was no way he was ready for that now.

He had only called Hermione because he knew she would be able to get the answers he needed. In fact, it had only taken her an hour to confirm her initial ideas, and just like that, Harry and Severus had a place to go.

Now all he had to do as convince Severus.

~*~*~*~*~*~

“Bandon?”

Severus’s voice was scornful, but Harry hurried on, ignoring Severus’s obvious, instant dislike of his plan.

“Yeah, I know – Break With a Banshee and all that. Ireland never recognized the Acts of Union . . .”

Severus scowled, and Harry realized that Severus was certainly up on his Wizarding history, and was likely well aware of the events of 1800. Harry himself had had to be reminded by Hermione, but he was willing to put that down to Binns’s abysmal teaching.

“The Irish Wizarding Kingdom doesn’t have an extradition agreement with Ministry of Magic.”

“Yes . . .”

Now Severus was thoughtful, which was progress. He absent-mindedly tapped his bottom lip in a gesture that was new to Harry. Harry bit his own bottom lip and remained silent.

 

When he finally spoke, Severus was noticeably more enthusiastic.“The Dark Lord actually made a bid for Troy after the World Cup. He thought the lad showed a promising amount of pride. He also thought that the Trojan Horse analogy was hilarious.”

Harry hadn’t known that Voldemort had a sense of humor, but he stifled his reaction. Severus was on his way to being convinced; it was no time to interrupt him.

“Troy refused, wisely enough – surprising in a Chaser. They don’t commonly rise above the usual idiocy of Quidditch players. Keepers, on the other hand . . .”

Harry bit his lip harder. He could not let Snape draw him into an argument about Quidditch. 

“If he had agreed, of course, Voldemort would have taken the Quidditch World Cup away from that pathetic excuse for a Minister of Magic and given it back to Ireland, where it belonged, since England’s claim that the Irish National Team is actually English is a blatant falsehood . . .”

Harry couldn’t keep quiet any longer.

“Right. Voldemort loved a good joke and stands up for the downtrodden, as long as they join his cause. Got it. He is also not our problem anymore. We are on the run from the Ministry, and as you just pointed out, they don’t have a problem overstepping their bounds.”

Snape smirked.

“Indeed. Thus you prove my point that it would be useless for us to go to Ireland. The Ministry would have no compunction about snapping us up if we dared.”

That was your point? 

Harry shook his head. Damned if his husband wasn’t the biggest Slytherin of them all, and a smart arse to boot. But Harry had Hermione on his side. Well, on their side, really. Severus would argue with a lifebelt if he were drowning.

“Yes, they would do, if they could. But the Irish government remembers the World Cup, as well. And even if they didn’t, they are well aware of what’s going on in Wales. And I’m pretty sure that they don’t want their citizens to be sent to Azkaban en masse.”

Severus looked straight into Harry’s eyes, and he smiled. 

It was terrifying.

But Harry knew he had won. They were for Ireland.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) “The 422nd Quidditch World Cup final was held on 22 August, 1994 in England, between Ireland and Bulgaria [ . . . ]The final score was 170-160. The Irish team performed a lap of honour before being presented with the Quidditch World Cup in the stadium's Top Box.” (HP Wiki: ). However, Cornelius Fudge, the English Minister for Magic at the time, claimed the Cup for England.
> 
> 2) The Ministry of Magic had recently had dozens of Welsh protestors of the Marriage Mandate arrested and sent to Azkaban. See Chapter Seven of Perfect.


	31. Chapter Thirty-One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Traveling the Muggle way is harder than Harry thought it would be.

When Harry came down to the sitting room to tell their hosts of his and Severus's decision, he found a disturbing tableau. Ginny stood with her back to him amidst a pile of boxes and bags, Gabrielle's eyes were red and she was sniffling audibly, and Draco had his arms crossed across his chest and a scowl on his face. 

Before Harry could say a word, Ginny turned away from her lovers and faced him. 

Her voice was frighteningly firm as she declared, "I'm coming with you, and we are meeting Hermione there."

Harry was gobsmacked. His mouth was still hanging open when Ginny continued.

"Don't even think about arguing with me, Harry Potter. Ron has been arrested, and Hermione needs us just as much as we need her."

Harry wouldn't have argued with that for anything. Hermione and Ginny were family, and they all needed Ron. Whatever misunderstandings or tension that had grown up during the past year, family always came first.

**********

Severus took the news surprisingly well. Surprising to Harry, anyway. Ginny seemed perfectly comfortable pairing up -- tripling up? -- joining them. Draco was already on thin ice with Severus, so he couldn't exactly protest their plans, and Gabrielle just looked more and more sad.

Harry was also the only one who was surprised that Ron had been arrested.

Gabrielle's family history stretched back to before the French Revolution; she had been raised with as many stories of prosecution and survival as Draco had been. Draco had been sent to France to escape the Ministry, as had Ginny, so they had no trouble imagining the reality of the threat.

It still felt unreal to Harry. He still wasn't even exactly sure why Severus and he were even in France in the first place. He had been so ill and distraught when they had arrived that he had taken their situation as given.

But Harry found the thought of returning to the battleground, well, near the battleground anyway, invigorating. He didn't have to worry about carrying their child now. It was time for him to be the protector. It was a role he with which he had always been uncomfortable, but with Severus and a child to protect, he had no time for hesitation. 

The Ministry was acting no better than Voldemort had, and Harry would not balk at treating them the same way he had treated the Dark Lord.

********

Before he could save the day again, however, Harry had to pack.

He would have thought that the girls would have been helpful in this endeavor. But even Ginny seemed a bit over-invested in clothing and jewelry. Harry wanted to snap at them and ask what the use of jewelry would be in civil war, but Draco steered him clear. Literally, actually, as he grasped Harry's arm and marched him out of range with a surprisingly firm hand.

Draco clearly still felt guilty about making Severus feel unwelcome in his home, and he seemed determined to make his amends by providing the fathers-to-be with an amazing amount of innovative magical camping, fighting, and baby supplies. It was an odd assortment: self-cleaning diapers nestled beside crossbows that never needed new arrows, all under the shelter of the pop-up cabana that came equipped with a baby-safe fireplace, ready to make untraceable Floo calls.

Harry had no earthly idea how Draco had come up with all this stuff at a moment's notice. He was still uncomfortable with the kind of magic that a few million galleons made happen, and he decided to cover his awkwardness with humor.

"Have you been channeling Q?"

Draco rolled his eyes. 

"You know that I paid even less attention in Trewlaney's class than you did, Potter. I'm not 'channeling' anyone."

Harry let it drop, but he did take a moment to feel superior to Draco. The prat had never even heard of James Bond. Harry was, of course, grateful for all the gear, but Draco's misplaced belief that he knew everything was never going to sit well with him. Harry decided to remain silent and just focus on miniaturizing the lot and stuffing it into a expanding trunk that reminded him uncomfortably of Barty Crouch, Jr.. 

Best not to bring that up, either.

Harry couldn't get out of Malfoy's house soon enough. 

*****

After what had happened with Harry's pregnancy, he insisted that they take Muggle transportation for their journey to Ireland. He was keenly aware of every threat, real or imaginary, to his child, and besides, he considered Portkeys to be a menace at the best of times. International Floos were obviously being monitored carefully for dissidents, so they were out. 

Draco was only too happy to drive them to the Charles de Gaul airport, as he was keen to show off his Aston Martin. Harry was beginning to suspect that Draco's ignorance of James Bond was a sham, but he was too busy trying not to vomit to mention it. Draco drove like a maniac.

Harry did no better with airsickness than he did with carsickness, and when they landed in Dublin he insisted that they take the train to Bandon. Ginny thought they should rent a car, and Severus agreed with her. That is, he agreed until Harry sicked up on his shoes. This aggravated Severus's morning sickness, and in the end they both practically crawled onto the train. 

Ginny was left to carry all the luggage. Luckily, her good looks and charm ensured that she did very little heavy lifting. She didn't need her wand to find willing helpers.That didn't stop her from grumbling, and she spent the first half hour of the ride muttering under her breath. 

After she realized there wouldn't be a trolley with chocolate frogs and pasties, she went to the dining car and took great pleasure in eating her egg and pickle in front of Harry and Severus. It was quite a gamble on her part, and Harry almost wanted to sick up again just to spite her. But Severus seemed to read his mind, and a quelling look cowed Harry into silence.

After eating, Ginny decided that Hermione certainly would have rented a car, seeing as she would have more sense whilst dealing with an infant and a missing husband than any man would have at the best of times. This time it was Harry's turn to silence Severus, which he did with a strong kick to the instep. This was quite a gamble on his part, and from the look Severus gave him, it had been an unwise one. But it kept Ginny in a good mood for the rest of the train ride, and that was worth it. Probably. 

All three of them were relieved to see Hermione waiting for them at the Bandon station. Harry was feeling well enough to bundle them all into the Land Rover that Hermione had, indeed, rented, and it was decided that he should drive. 

"Best way to prevent carsickness," Hermione said, sounding eerily like her father. 

Harry did his best not to remember the various curses, threats, and shrieks that accompanied his learning to drive. Ron and Hermione's baby was strapped into a Muggle carseat and enveloped by a visible shimmer of protective spells, and everyone else could definitely protect themselves. He focused on the road.

But he was more glad than he could say when he finally took the exit for Skibberdeen. And the sight of The Castle Bed and Breakfast was as welcome to all four of them as Hogwarts ever had been.


	32. Chapter Thirty-Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their surroundings may change, but Harry and Severus find their home in one another.

The two towers of the Castle Townshend that were visible to Muggles had been built in the mid-1700s to replace the "ruins" of the original Castle, which was built in 1650. After the Statute of Secrecy was enacted, the Townshend family had gradually transitioned their ancestral home into a combined Muggle-magical building. The modern front housed a posh Muggle Bed and Breakfast, while the original building functioned as a magical Bed and Breakfast (also quite posh). 

The older building was disguised as a large natural pond, and the Muggle-repellent charms cleverly imbued wanderers with a reverence for the untouched beauty and charm of nature. Any thoughts of swimming, fishing, or boating seemed obscene under the charm's influence. Children, whether Muggle or magical, couldn't care less about keeping nature pristine, so the charm was modified to fill even the stoutest-hearted of children with the utter certainty that the pond was full of giant, starving Conger Eels. The unlikelihood of marine eels inhabiting a freshwater pond had no effect on the children's fears, and most parents were glad of it. Better their offspring be frightened of imaginary eels than drowned in a pond, however picturesque.

Magical folk were, of course, not affected by such charms. But the current family had agreed to look the other way should Hermione chose to cast an Imperturbable Charm on her suite. 

********

When they had dragged themselves and their luggage into their suite, Harry finally got a look at Rose, and he fell in love. Her pink lips were drawn up in a bow, and her wisps of strawberry blond hair were as mussed as her mother’s ever had been. He wasn’t going to hold a grudge against a child, as he had already had enough experience with that in his life.  
Harry wasn't even sure if Hermione knew of his horrid thoughts about Rose's birth, and there was no way he would ever want her to find out. 

Hermione had enough other things on her mind that Harry needn't have bothered worrying. 

"Rose is a good sleeper, but I can't bear to leave her for a moment. It was different when Ron or Molly was there, but . . ."

Severus immediately blocked that Bludger.

"Miss Granger – Hermione. I, too, am in a vulnerable state, as you may already know. If we work together, I'm sure we can manage to keep Rose safe and happy, and still have enough time to do any necessary research and take a respectable number of naps."

That was when Hermione broke down in tears.

Ginny went to hug her, but Severus had beat her to it and already had Hermione wrapped in his long arms. Ginny raised her eyebrows at Harry, and he sighed. He and Severus had been so busy mourning and fighting when they were in France that Ginny still had no idea how much Severus had changed. From her conversations, well, therapy sessions, really, with Harry, she had shown respect for the man, and had demonstrated that she had moved beyond her conviction that he existed to plague her. But she had not seen evidence of the depths of caring and love that Severus hid so well.

Harry didn’t try to explain. There had been enough talk about his marriage. He was tired of talking about it; he was ready to get back to living it.

Ginny and Harry had plenty of time to unpack while Severus was closeted with Hermione. They distracted themselves by examining the over-the-top spy gear that Draco had supplied. Harry was glad that Ginny was able to laugh at her new lover’s foibles. He couldn’t stand it if he lost her again – especially to Draco. Despite everything, he would never trust that man. Lucius and Narcissa were at least loyal to Severus. Draco seemed to be loyal only to himself. Harry kept these thoughts to himself, and limited his jokes to the technology. Living with Severus had taught him at least that much discretion.

Harry also refrained from commenting on the House Elf that appeared with their meals. Hermione could use all the help she could get. The past year had tested all of their moral and personal limits, and hashing over the past was pointless. Besides, Hermione’s choice of eating in her room allowed Severus to tell Harry and Ginny what he had found out from her.

************

In short, Ron had been hauled off to Azkaban with no explanation. And as Habeus Corpus had never caught on with the Wizangamot, they didn’t need to supply one. Hermione had fled the country to save Rose.

“She had no doubt that she was next.”

Severus was unusually subdued. Harry had never seen him so dispirited – not even when he had come to Azkaban to propose to the man.

“Rumor has it that the children of dissenters will be offered up for adoption to the highest bidder.”

Harry choked on his tea.

Ginny was incandescent with rage.

“You can’t be serious. They couldn’t . . .”

Severus cut her off.

“They can and they will. Muggles may believe that Jonathan Swift’s ‘Modest Proposal’ was an allegory. Wizards know better. The English have never hesitated to eat the young of those whom they brand rebels.”

Harry didn’t know what Severus was talking about, but the image of Rose being put up for auction and then being served up as a roast for the winner was very vivid. He pushed away his plate as he felt the waves of nausea return.

Severus actually laughed as he assured Harry that no infants would be eaten. Harry still didn’t feel like finishing his supper. He rather thought he might not eat ever again.

*****

Nothing was going to be solved that night. Harry knew that, but he needed some relief from the ever-increasing pressure. When Severus went to pull the heavy shutters closed in their bedroom, Harry stopped him.

“I don’t want to be in the dark right now.”

Severus cast a shielding spell that allowed the long summer twilight to shine through the window.

He came to Harry and gathered him into his arms. They stood there for a long time, just holding each other and breathing. 

When Harry finally broke down, it was not into tears. Instead he dropped to his knees in front of his husband, and he held him tight with hands and lips and tongue. After Severus spent himself down Harry’s throat, and they moved to the bed, Harry kept holding him until they both dropped into sleep.


End file.
